Northern winters gnawed at the bones like a relentless wolf. Frost-laced winds cut through skin without mercy. Firewood was scarce. Mats were thin. One person alone could only fight the cold so far. Alone...
"Niichan... so coooold."
She burrowed into her brother's lap, still wrapped in the thin futon, pressing her face against his chest. Arms curled around his middle, she treated his warmth like a living heater.
"Oi, oi... really, can't be helped."
He paused his straw sandal weaving, hands brushing her hair, caught between annoyance and indulgence. She purred softly, squinting her eyes in contentment, letting sleep creep in on wings of comfort.
The eldest brother was always like that. Unlike the others, he never demanded, never teased, gave freely, played generously. Kind, clever, perfectly convenient. Not that she disliked the others—but he was special.
So she clung to him without shame, without caution. This one was always on her side.
"Hehe... so warm... Niichan, I love you."
"You little opportunist."
Her cheek rubbed against his stomach, her voice dripping with sweetness. He only chuckled. The others might have shoved her aside. He detached his hands for the sandals—she couldn't argue."It's for your meals," he said, and she understood even then, as a child, that money was precious and work mattered. She had watched her siblings labor endlessly and wondered when it would be her turn.
Alone together for lunch, the rhythmic sound of his weaving became a lullaby. She'd barely woken, yet already was drawn into drowsy bliss. Happiness clung to her chest like sunlight.
"Niichan..."
"...Yes?"
"I... I'll be your bride, okay?"
"What the hell?"
He laughed, more from surprise than amusement. Children have their own logic, after all.
"You're the eldest, right? The heir. Then there should be a bride, right?"
Even in poverty, a house was a house. The eldest had duty.
"We have no money. No bride will come."
"Brutal truth, huh."
"And I... have no dowry? So I figured—hey! I'll marry you!"
Her reasoning was simple, childlike: no bride money needed, just live together. No deep thought, only a bright idea tinged with selfishness.
"...You just don't want to leave home, huh?"
"Busted?"
"Obviously."
"Hehe... maybe a little?"
"Don't blush."
He read her instantly. She wanted the safety of home, the warmth of family. Even poor, even ragged, it was sanctuary.
"...Don't worry. I'll make sure your dowry is covered. Leave it to me."
"Ehh..."
"Not 'ehh,' dammit."
She wished he didn't have to, wished instead for more food. But he wouldn't budge; duty outweighed hunger.
"I won't say 'anyone can do it,' but think before you marry. Think of the future. Old age."
"That's why I'll marry you, Niichan."
"Shut it."
Her cheeks puffed in irritation. Even a child could sense life's injustices: loved by some, envied by none, yet family always demanded sacrifices.
"Sibling marriage... bad habit... bad old story. Not allowed now. Understand? What about the family registry?"
"Hmm? Then, Niichan, do you have someone to be your bride?"
She didn't understand most of it, yet sensed something was wrong. Who would marry into their poor family? A twinge of jealousy rose as she stared up at him, trying to read his heart.
"You're forward. Even I was a brat once. That's a story for later. Also... I'm not inheriting the house."
"Huh?"
His words were shocking, alien. The eldest defied expectations. Even she, a child, knew this was unusual.
"...I told you. No money. Marriage means work, not leisure. I must earn, send home."
He placed the finished straw sandal aside and began anew. Piles of crafted sandals waited to be sold cheaply—a frequent complaint of his.
"...I won't be home much. Housework will fall to my brothers."
"Niichan, you're leaving home?"
Her chest tightened. Tears threatened. Family leaving was unthinkable—especially him.
"Hey, hey, don't cry. It's not like I'm dying. I'll send letters with your allowance."
"I can't read..."
"Try. I'll help."
"Ehh..."
Her sulk was met with unwavering patience. Even the eldest could be merciless in his fairness.
"...Niichan..."
"Geez... not today or tomorrow, alright? Stop crying."
Even as her words grew more proper, Yukine's eyes shone with the same devotion he had always returned—a gaze of pure affection, bridging the stolen hours they could never reclaim.
* * *
For village girl Yukine, it felt like a miracle, a stroke of divine favor. Happiness borrowed from the future itself, too overwhelming to fully believe.
The beginning of it all traced back to Mari, introduced through her third brother, a low-ranking official. Even he discovering the truth seemed like an act of fortune.
Repeatedly, within his modest power, the third brother sought information—asking questions, consulting others, searching for the eldest brother, the one sold off, lost to the family. He had hoped at least to retrieve his body and lay it in their hometown grave.
Was it fate, chance, or the will of the heavens? One day, the third brother was stopped by an official he assisted privately and escorted to a grand yashiki estate.
The Minister of the Left held lands across Fusō, always providing aid: food for the poor, beds, care for abandoned children, doctors for the sick. Amid this charity, the eldest brother was found—rescued after being cast into a river, barely alive.
His body bore cruel marks; doctors noted abuse so extreme it could only be called inhuman. Seven days and nights unconscious, he awoke still grievously harmed. Memory was fuzzy—injury, or perhaps tampering—but older recollections persisted, enough to trace his identity.
Mistreatment, suspicion of sorcery... yet by the Minister's extraordinary benevolence, the story reached him, and he summoned the eldest brother. A mercy far beyond what a mere peasant deserved. Yukine and her third brother wept in awe, overwhelmed by impossible fortune.
If there was any dissatisfaction...
"Onii-san... you're not going home?"
Still nestled against his lap from their nap, Yukine pressed upward, seeking his hand as pillow, eyes wide, imploring. Bandaged features curved in a weary smile, reminiscent of patience endured when she was a spoiled child.
Feeling both joy and guilt, she attempted to rise—but his rough, dry, calloused palm pressed gently to her forehead, reminding her of his burdens. A fleeting thought of whose hand it resembled flickered away as his voice began.
"Ah... I won't return home. I'd only burden everyone."
Hearing the reason he refused to return, Yukine shouted instinctively.
"What!? Nobody would think you a burden! Even Kōji-niisan would welcome you...!!"
"Even if they didn't, it would be a burden."
Her eldest brother, barely alive, ragged, yet surviving, spoke cruel truths. If the family prospered, his presence alone might disrupt order.
"Kōji... doing well, right?"
"Yes... He bought land, expanding slowly. Now he can hire a few."
Repeated questions met with strong answers. Their family had not squandered the fortune gained from the eldest's sale. They had worked, saved, expanded fields, employed labor. Ten years of effort had elevated them from tenant farmers to small landowners—respected, successful. The lord of Ōmura now offered his daughter in marriage accordingly.
"That one worked hard. Has results, reputation. That's why the match was made. Imagine a useless, crippled brother showing up—he'd only hinder things."
The house traditionally inherited by the eldest could not accommodate a man who contributed nothing. Even if parents welcomed him, society would not. Order must prevail.
"Impossible! Kōji-niisan, mother, father—they would never resent you! They would never abandon you!"
"Exactly. You shouldn't forgive me. Better I be disowned... cut off entirely."
"Onii-san...!!"
His self-mocking jest chilled her. The thought of a family rejecting him was unbearable.
"Hahaha... no need to get so worked up."
"I do! I will... of course I will!"
His words, tinged with sorrow, pierced her. Could they trust their family so little? Did he harbor such resentment? She could not bear the thought of it.
"Yukine... I'm sorry. I don't mean anything against them. But understand this: sometimes family agreement isn't enough. You're not a child anymore. You must understand."
"...!"
Her protest faltered. She knew well the world's cruelty, its inequities—the reality that had nearly stolen her brother from her.
"Onii-san... that..."
"...Was harshly said. Sorry. Didn't mean it that way."
Seeing his sincere self-reproach tightened her chest. Words could not undo reality. They had gained happiness at the cost of his suffering. That truth was immutable.
"If you're not returning... Onii-san, what will you do from now on?"
Fearful, hopeful, she asked.
"Well... once I can move properly, I must work. Even a wreck like me can find something in the capital..."
"...You intend to work?"
"Can't survive otherwise. Can't be dependent forever."
He glanced around the room—a refined space, far beyond commoner's means, a proper yashiki estate, secure from rain and wind. A perfect haven for recovery, far superior to their old ragged home. How long would he remain here...?
"...Onii-san."
Yukine rose a third time, gripping his hands to prevent them shielding her, staring straight into his eyes.
"...Yukine?"
"Onii-san..."
Watching her brother accept her bold grip with a mixture of surprise and quiet indulgence, Yukine realized he would never return to their old home. He had forsaken it himself for the sake of family. Her duty as a sister was clear—she must create a home for him. But how?
(Hotoya...)
She remembered her time serving there, glimpsing the lord's homeland. Nature abundant. Clear streams, fertile fields. Gentle villagers. Even the guards... surely a brother in fragile health would not be mistreated.
(Yes... in that village... a small house could be built.)
She could request funds from her family, framing it as a ceremonial severance. They would willingly tap their savings. Her second brother's wife and family would likely have little say. Even the sternest parent could not deny a small filial act.
It need not be grand—just two of them. A cozy house. A vegetable garden, maybe a tiny chicken coop. Floors tatami-lined to spare her brother's body. Furniture, essentials, all prepared.
She would return from Hotoya to find him there. Attend to his handiwork, prepare warm evening meals, share quiet laughter, eat moderately. Help him bathe, cool his flushed skin, play board games. Write letters to the family. Wrap themselves in the same futon. A peaceful, complete, untroubled life.
"Haah..."
She sighed, tasting the sweetness of her imagined world. Living forever with her brother—nothing missing, nothing lacking, nothing to complain about. A lush land, friends, family. A utopia realized.
Her care would be no burden. She was the youngest daughter. If she used dowry funds to build a home for her brother, the family would suffer no loss. After all he had sacrificed, it was her turn to serve. Compared to his trials, her labor was minor. A happy household—the highest happiness she could conceive. With him older, her a girl, she calculated: he would not be left destitute if she passed first, nor starve in old age.
(Indeed... better than marriage...)
Even marriage offered no guarantee. A husband's nature revealed only after joining a household. Relations with his family could be fraught. Children could fail to appear. Better to live freely with her brother. Every thought confirmed her plan's brilliance.
The man she had once considered... was gone. All the more reason.
"...!?"
"Yukine...? What is it? Are you... thinking something?"
The pang of memory hit her, chest tightening painfully. Her twisted expression drew his concern. She had worried him, burdened his heart. Her rashness felt detestable.
"No, nothing... it's just... Onii-san, if you truly believe returning home is impossible, I have an idea..."
To escape painful emotions, to bask in happiness, Yukine shifted the conversation. She intended to unveil her plan eagerly...
"Ahaha, sorry... but isn't it about time for your checkup?"
"Hyaa!?"
Without warning, a warm embrace from behind, a breath tickling her ear. She squealed, bouncing, clinging to her brother, glaring at the intruder.
His loosely worn kimono and light makeup made gender indistinct. On all fours, mischievous, smiling devilishly, a touch youkai-like. Yukine recognized it immediately.
The disreputable, infamous Shinobu of the Miyataka family stood before her. Rumor or truth, this scandalous figure might even be a reluctant benefactor to Yukine.
"...Princess herself again. I am humbled."
"This time too, I shall inspect, thoroughly—every corner, every inch, with care♪"
Yukine stiffened in her brother's embrace, distrust sharpening her gaze. The princess's playful words dripped with menace and amusement.
"Ahaha, no need to glare so. We're hardly strangers now, right? We've played together in the pleasure quarters, haven't we?"
"...! This is in front of my brother! Mind your words!"
Even respecting hierarchy, Yukine could not stay silent. There are times, manners, places, she thought.
"Yukine, calm... I understand. Princess, please do not tease my sister so."
"Hehe. If the guest consents... I cannot help myself. Your reactions are simply too charming."
"...!"
Biting back frustration at this ambiguous mix of apology and provocation, Yukine remained silent—above all, for her brother's sake.
"Fufu... I'd enjoy this longer, but perhaps I should let you go. The rooster cries already? Surely we wouldn't let a young lady walk home at night?"
"Ehh!?"
The words startled her. She rushed to open the shōji. The sky blushed crimson; crows cawed. They had overstayed.
"Iruka!? Why didn't you tell me?"
Outside on the veranda, her friend sat cross-legged, scratching her head, flustered. Her annoyance flared. Then came the calming voice of another:
"Wait. I asked her not to wake you; you were sleeping so soundly. And with everything being discussed, it was hard to intervene. Sorry... I didn't mean to impose."
Though unable to stand, her brother's apology was sincere. Iruka shrugged from the veranda, answering tersely. Yukine could not judge anger or approval.
"Yukine, friends are precious, right?"
"...Yes."
His final admonition stopped her. She must not worry him, burden him further.
"And you... Iruka-san, right? Yukine means no harm. Don't take it to heart."
"...Understood."
The awkward reply was unlike her friend, yet there was no time to ponder. Duty called.
"Onii-san, take care. I left the things you requested here; tell me if anything else is needed. Anything?"
With her furoshiki, Yukine provided for her recovering brother, supplies she had brought over many visits.
"Nothing more for now... this yashiki estate cares well for you. And, if you asked, money would be tight, right?"
"Don't worry about funds. My wages cover it."
She pressed firmly: no hesitation. A mix of rivalry, caution, and childish competitiveness toward the amused observer, unwilling to accumulate further debts of gratitude.
"Really, it's fine. You'll mostly be lying down anyway... Will you come again?"
"May I?"
She peeked from behind her hands, heart fluttering. She had intended to care today, yet drifted to sleep. Did he resent her for it?
"No, I'm glad. Reminds me of old times... your drooling sleep-face hasn't changed a bit, has it?"
"Onii-san!"
"Ahahaha..."
Blushing further, she wiped her mouth, laughing weakly at her brother's familiar mirth.
"Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to tease. I'm looking forward to it. Just give a heads-up to the estate next time."
"Next time... shall we have lunch together?"
A hesitant offer, teasing lines mingled with earnest desire.
"...I'll... think on it."
Letting the princess's teasing remarks slide in every sense, Yukine finally resolved to take her leave, despite lingering unease and concern. She bowed deeply.
"Miyataka Princess, please... take care of my brother."
"Don't worry. He's a precious witness, after all. I'll keep him safe, until he loses his value, understand?"
"...I leave it to you, then."
Clenching her teeth at the princess's phrasing, showing no hint of anger, Yukine—Suzune—repeated her gratitude. Misreading it was impossible; above all, her actions must serve her brother.
"Then..."
She pivoted, stepping out. With Iruka, she left.
"..."
Walking along the veranda of the yashiki estate, she stole glances behind her. The vision of the elegantly dangerous lady attending to her brother, his exposed, bandaged upper body, touched her gaze. She quickly looked away, swallowing words threatening to escape her throat.
Unaware, her friend beside her noted her discomfort, tasting it like bitter medicine. The girl, lost in her own thoughts, could not perceive it.
* * *
"Onii-san..."
Traversing streets lined with grand estates, Yukine whispered, head lowered, face tense. A pattern repeated during previous visits: cheerful outward, heavy return.
The reason lay with her brother's position. Though she knew not the details, the evidence of abuse was written across his body. The Princess had spoken of traces of curses. The Minister of the Left, sensing irregularities in her brother's condition, had acted.
Though Yukine had no insight into politics or law, she understood: her brother was recovering under protection at the Miyataka yashiki, restrained for his own safety.
His very existence, his sealed memories, served as proof. Exposure to the wrong hands would be perilous. Hence, the Miyataka estate—skilled in curses and severing ties—became his refuge. Healing his battered body, shielding him from harm.
(Still... better than elsewhere, I suppose...)
Even amidst danger, his treatment was far better than any peasant could hope for. Yet emotion outweighed reason; she could not help resentment.
(If only it were another household...)
The care assigned to a notorious, scandalous princess was unpleasant. She wished the contact—conversations, touch, even the sight of her brother—could be avoided. It was for his sake.
Yes. For his sake.
"...Suzune, are you alright? Feeling unwell?"
"Huh? My complexion... really that bad?"
Her wolfish friend, the guardian who accompanied her in the princess's absence, asked. She forced a laugh, touching her cheek. Cold? No. Signs of illness? None. Careful, always, to not endanger her brother.
"You shouldn't overthink it with him. He's him, you're you. Live your life too."
"...What do you mean?"
Her friend's words, like something stuck between molars, carried subtle weight. She never hindered her visits, yet there was always some unspoken concern.
"Don't overinvest. Family matters, yes—but not at the expense of everything you have. Even with close ties, there are limits."
"Very Iruka of you to say that."
Strong, self-interested, shrewd. Yukine accepted it. This was how she lived; she could not deny her nature.
"...Each has their own life. I understand."
Her brother had sacrificed everything for family. Body, mind, and soul. She could not deny that. As a sister, it was natural to wish to repay him. Perhaps her friend could never grasp it.
"...Suzune. You've got your wakizashi with you, right?"
"...? Something wrong?"
Her friend's sudden stern expression, whispered warning, made her tense. She was proving the purpose of her presence: her protection.
"Don't look back. There's a carriage following."
"A carriage...?"
"Same carriage as before. Even the attendants carry concealed weapons. Wakizashi is normal, but poisoned weapons? Overkill, don't you think?"
"Poisoned...?"
Her breath caught. Retainers and guards are standard for nobility. A wakizashi is normal. Poisoned weapons? Unusual. Especially here, amidst daimyo estates, exorcist enclaves, crowded streets.
"And the carriage... Barrier Curse? Illusion? Strange. Nothing felt too strong, which is suspicious."
Noble vehicles often carry wards. Recognizing nothing is also a tactic. Iruka sensed a vacuum—a dilution of presence. Step aside, and one might pass unnoticed, undetected.
"Likely a powerful spell. If they get you in that carriage... it's over."
"Iruka..."
"Don't leave my side. Reaching the yashiki estate safely is the goal... Plenty of people around. No one's stupid enough to interfere. Probably."
She pulled the anxious Suzune close, feigning levity, yet eyes and mind alert. Only she could ensure her safety. No other presence could guard her with the same resolve.
(Can't wish for what's absent. I have to stay sharp.)
Of all companions, only she could protect her now. Even if an outlaw exorcist, aided by a hawk, intervened begrudgingly, that would be all. The world was harsh—and ironically, she was the one most exposed, most in the heart of the storm.
(In the heart... the storm...)
Iruka recalled her friend, dozing just moments ago, and the brief, tense exchange with a mysterious man. How much had been truth... and how much deceit? The uncertainty lingered, pressing against her vigilance.
* * *
"...Onii-san. They've reached the yashiki estate. Should be safe now—master and princess are there too."
"...Let's hope so."
Even with this reassurance, his brow remained furrowed. Scars etched across his face deepened, a map of past suffering. Worry and anxiety dominated him.
"Onii-sama..."
"...I know. I understand."
A small white fox, seated on his lap, lifted its head, calling softly. Once his half-fox sister, she now stood firmly as a sister figure. Memories of when the pink-princess stacked blocks on his head only added to the initial confusion. Maintaining proper distance had been difficult, but now the bond was secure.
"Onii-san... isn't it still dangerous? If you like, I can accompany her. I can protect her, at least..."
A beautiful exorcist child offered genuine concern. In truth, what she did now was barely dangerous, but her worry was sincere.
"No... sorry. I can't let you do that. Please, forgive me."
"Forgive? I'm not blaming you. I just... want to help for your sake! Don't worry!"
Shirowakamaru of the Onitsuki household smiled wryly, troubled yet sincere. Every soft expression confirmed her care was genuine.
"...For me, huh."
The words echoed. No ill intent, yet he knew the burden his presence imposed. Emotion overruled reason. That was why he insisted on being here—pushing his will, enduring inconvenience for their sake.
A custom-built, unmarked carriage, imbued with spells to conceal presence, still required layers of precaution. A brother's curse, a sister's illusion, his own cloak of perception-blocking magic—all combined to obscure traces. Only then could he truly watch over them, his precious kin, the sister now caught in clear danger.
"...I've wronged you, Iruka."
By rank and skill, relaying information or safety details to the wolfish girl was perilous. If her mind were tampered with, any movement could betray him. His survival, his location, needed secrecy. Iruka's stubbornness meant she would resist, even fight. Seeing them emerge safely each time from the yashiki estate became an ordeal, a reminder of his own helplessness.
"Onii-san..."
"Complaining won't help, I suppose. I've already made you cross dangerous paths."
"I'll do it anytime! If it's your wish, I'll help!"
"Me too! Anything you ask, I'll assist!"
Recognizing their selfless devotion, he thanked them silently. Their innocence was a balm, far removed from the rigid attendants outside the carriage.
"Master..."
"Time to return. Follow my lead."
At a subtle signal, the attendants moved the girls back into the carriage.
"Understood. But..."
"I know. Rewards will come, but stay vigilant. Treat this as enemy territory."
"...Yes."
The girls' eager eyes met his, and he warned them silently. Beneath Ichimegasa hats, they consented without question. Rejection was impossible.
"...Good children."
Further involvement could endanger them or hinder his duty. He closed the window, answering the young ones' curious stares with a strained smile.
Outside, the attendants were more than guardians—they were shields. Many born to samurai or exorcist lineages, now from fallen houses sold daughters to survive. Assigned to his personal whim, their role was a decoy to buy time. Even if he refused, the princess's warning that they might die otherwise left him no choice. To them, this was duty, continuation of prior suffering; to him, a harsh extension.
Yet, from their perspective, the task held meaning. He demanded nothing, but they sought reward.
"You're cunning, aren't you? Asking to rebuild a family? Ha, strong-willed."
Teasing, he addressed his sister- and brother-figures. Not a lie, just omissions.
Reward: for descendants of fallen houses, the promise to rebuild. They bore responsibility, as did he. Reestablishing the house required more than money or women. He could not explain fully to the children. They must see him as elder brother, nothing more, his flaws hidden.
Perhaps too late, yet...
"Onii-sama..."
"Shiro... huh?"
The white fox sat atop his lap, patting his head. Sitting upright, striving, praising him with careful hands.
"I know how hard you've worked! So... please, don't hold back. I'll help too!"
Her pure devotion shone. As a sister figure, her effort comforted him.
"...You too, huh."
He shifted, wrapping his arms tightly around her. Firm, unyielding.
"Warmth is the best solace when it hurts... Annoying?"
"Not at all."
"Good then."
Simple exchanges sufficed. Though clumsy, the brother-figure's actions expressed genuine care. He accepted them silently, aware of the emotions communicated through touch.
"...Take care."
Watching his sister depart through the yashiki gates, the carriage passed as though nothing had occurred. Returning kin to a haven, yet the peril remained a weight on his conscience. Every consequence, his responsibility.
Even if his family resented him...
"Onii-san..."
"Onii-sama..."
He drew the sister-figure close, pressing the brother-figure against him. Not resistance, only familial intimacy.
"Forgive me. Just a little... let me lean on you, please."
In calm yet mournful tones, neither human, nor monster, nor god, he revealed weakness long hidden. Twisting sorrow and solitude were gently soothed.
Notes:
• Mari - Energetic and affectionate girl who leads the younger group. Bold during play, but shows a tender, bashful side in emotional moments.
• Shino - A maid who twists around Master's left arm, biting and licking his fingers in affection. Her devoted service feels maddeningly abnormal to Master.