for Izumi <3

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When consciousness returns her first reaction is confusion, followed by a rush of memories—the clash of swords, the sting of betrayal, the bitter bite of steel that marked her end. The cold embrace of death, dark and sudden. A flicker of phantom pain ignites in her gut before it fades once more. A grunt left her lips as she tries to sit up, but her body refuses to obey in the way she remembers. She's closer to the ground, her perspective of the view different.

A feeling of panic burns in the acid of her stomach, bumbling and nauseating. She swallowed a glob of spit and instead focuses on the feeling of the cool earth beneath her and the gentle rustling of leaves above her. Confusion coils around her like tendrils of mist— how? How is she here?. A cacophony of scents invades her sharpened senses—damp earth, the sharp tang of pine, and a hint of an approaching storm in the distance. Her breathing, deep and instinctual, vibrates through her new form as she takes it all in. This body is not hers— or well it is hers, but it had not been used in decades. It was from a different life, a different time from when before she was a woman.

She raises her head, feeling the softness of her fur and the strength in her limbs as she stood up even as they shook.

She stands, awkwardly at first, feeling the new weight and balance of her form. With a cautious flick of her ears, she takes in her surroundings. Dark figures flit through the underbrush—shadows of other creatures, feral and wild just like her. Her senses sharpen, the world exploding into vivid clarity as she took in the symphony of the forest—chirping birds, the rustling of animals in the undergrowth, and the distant sound of water flowing.

Would it be too hopeful of her to hope to see a friendly face? A familiar one? Perhaps one from her first life, from before she was a human?

A headache grew, throbbing behind her eyes as she sat down once more, pushed the disjointed thoughts aside as she just appreciated the morning light basking the world.

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<3<3<3

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❁

It wasn’t often that she visited the silent streams. All with it’s jagged stone paths and thick, mossy scent that often became too strong in the summer sun to bear. Although this strange place had it’s own charm to it whenever things hit just right; especially in the mornings when the sun casted a misty glow against the aged rocks.

Early was her wake – Izumi decided to catch some exercise before the sun caught up to the horizon. Afterall, how could she possibly gain her muscle back while wasting away in that god forsaken den all day? Seeing anything that even resembled a cave as of late made her queasy in memory of her imprisonment; at least if she were to be sick, it would not be in confinement. She might even try to see if she could hunt down something useful to fill the cache – all while prey was plentiful.

There were new faces returning to the island with interest in the dynasty. All thanks to those she had sent to scout, and Izumi could now envision a future where the winter season was much more bearable. Still, she hadn’t heard from her cousin or her lady-in-waiting for quite some time now. The crane bird could only pray for a safe return, and even contemplated going out to check on them herself. As of now, however, she’d keep an eye on the pack and Osamu – as she’d been pretty reluctant to leave his side lately. Especially after that night.

Ink-dipped ears pricked up at the sound of movement. Specifically, what sounded like nails scraping against stone. All it took was a wayward look to see the silvered figure of a woman not too far away. One she would drink in for a while now – because perhaps the crane bird had been seeing things, but…there was something oddly familiar about them.

Like some kind of distant memory…

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Kiyomi blinked, her newly awakened senses adjusting to the vibrant world around her. The moist, earthy scent of moss and the whisper of early morning birds made her feel both at ease and unnerved simultaneously especially given what she just woke up from. A blade piercing her belly, the feel of warm blood on her hand, and the copper taste of it in her mouth. It was disorienting for her last moments to be rife with conflict, but to suddenly awake in a familiar unfamiliar body in a place of such tranquility. The streams sparkled like diamonds in the soft light, and the sharp edges of the stones reminded her of a time long past—a civilization the world barely remembers.

As she shook her fur, shaking off remnants of the dreamlike state, Kiyomi’s dual toned eyes caught sight of a figure across the stream. Her heart raced as recognition washed over her, pulling at a thread deep within her soul: Izumi. The woman she thought lost to the clutches of time and circumstance. A soft whine escaped her throat, unintentionally breaking the morning's stillness and the only hint to Kiyomi's distress—an act she’ll later blame on the fact that she was disoriented enough to let slip pass in her confusion when she was normally so controlled with her emotions.

Kiyomi found herself moving, though she wasn’t sure if it was instinct or desire that urged her cautiously forward. The silvered wolf’s limbs felt both foreign and natural, her pulse quickening with each step toward the familiar figure. Could it be? Could Izumi really be here, in this ethereal moment, in this new life she found herself in? Kiyomi hesitated at the bank of the stream, watching the graceful figure of who she believed to be Izumi stand tall. She felt a mixture of joy and uncertainty swirl within her, but none of it, except a wariness showed on her placid features. What did she say? Was she still the Kiyomi that Izumi once knew, or was she simply a shadow of that life? She has experienced much since they were youth, has lived through horrors that she wouldnt wish on even her worst enemy. Kiyomi knew she was not the same, she couldn't be that bright light her old friend once knew her as.

Her heart pounded louder as she inhaled deeply, letting the earthy fragrances fill her lungs of peat and moss. 本当にあなたですか？ ( Is it really you?) she thought, her gaze hopeful yet shadowed with doubt, unaware that she had spoken the thought aloud into the stillness of the morning. The connection between them felt like a glimmer—a thread binding them together across lifetimes, but it was dull and frayed with experience and trauma. Mustering her courage, Kiyomi stepped closer, brushing her nose against the cool stones at the water's edge as her head bowed and her dual colored eyes looked upwards towards the familiar figure standing across her.

Then, just as the stream mirrored the colors of the sky, she let her desire break through the uncertainty. With a gentle yet tentative bark, she called out, the sound echoing in the air as she attempted to bridge the chasm of her past and present.

私があなたの幽霊を見てから久しぶりです ( It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the ghost of you ), she tried to convey through her stance, the tilt of her head, and those bright, cerulean eyes filled with memories that transcended lifetimes. The warmth of recognition surged through her, and she hoped desperately that Izumi could see it, could understand it—could believe that Kiyomi was more than just a fleeting mirage and that this was reality and not a cruel dream.

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❁

It couldn’t be ignored.

The chill that went up her spine when the woman would stare back with that gaze – of sterling silver and dark lavender pools. Her voice when she called to her; the sound of her mother tongue was evident in those syllables, but it was the song that she so recognized. 私の幽霊？ (The ghost of…..me?) Yet from what?….had she really gone on for so long that she’d let such a memory slip past her. Her ears flattened and her eyes trailed to her paws, eyes furrowed in frustration not at her company, but with herself.

She didn’t know this woman – yet she did. How did that even make any sense, and from which lifetime did this memory even come to play? The empress, even as she willed herself to stay put, still couldn’t help but take a step back – be it in instinctual fear, she didn’t know. Yet if this was some sort of strange trick, it would’ve been better for her to seek a way to conserve her safety. Her lilac gaze trailed back up to the woman as her head hung low, cautious – unnerved by her still hazy memory.

誰だ...あなたは誰ですか。 できない.. (Who....who are you? I can't…)

I can’t….remember…

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