Tan Hi is so pretty and pure; she seems to hover just above the ground, untouched by even the elements. Her skin is so pale and smooth, her eyes as amethysts set into an ivory statue, her hair is soft and hangs heavily over her shoulders. She already has so much to bear, it seems such a small thing to add, and yet, it would feel wrong to have her any other way; her fine ceremonial robes, her elaborate headdress, the flowers that adorn her. They fit her as if she is used to wearing them; it is intriguing, even before she uses her dan blade technique, seemingly in contrast to her gentle appearance.
Kei Gai is not often so curious. It was only a glimpse, really; it was a vision, for her warning at the edge of the Night Blade Forest was as much for her to see who dared enter as it was to warn away those who would leave, and free her of the bother of sending her dogs for them. Tan Hi didn't turn back, though it may well have been due to her companions. Kei Gai would love to have her on her own, and see if she was so driven without that thief around to lead her into whatever plan he was constructing.
Rin Setsu A's story only serves to make her more interested. As one of the Goinshi, she is not meant to leave sacred ground, and yet she is here among them, in her forest. It isn't just about the sword, though she suspects that even Tan Hi doesn't know how damaging it can be. It isn't even about keeping an eye on that thief, though she knows his tastes don't lie on the same route as her own. There isn't a need to protect Tan Hi, and yet...
If anyone is going to hurt Tan Hi, any more than she has been, it will be her. Of that, she is determined.
Tan Hi walks with small steps, forever putting on the image of a shrine maiden, innocent, pure. Somehow, though, she has been untouched by the dogs, unmarked by the shadows. Even her makeup is still unsmeared, which is no mean feat, given how far she must already have come. The Goinshi held the Tengyouken many days travel away, after all.
It makes Kei Gai want to do something to see if Tan Hi can actually bleed, if her clothes can tear, if she can cry.
Sometimes she catches Tan Hi watching her, as if the distance being carefully kept between them isn't enough, nor the fact that they've travelled this far and she hasn't done anything yet. If there was an issue about her being a demon, it didn't come up; she'd almost expected it, if she was honest, for that was the sort of thing that had driven her to the Night Blade Forest in the first place, after the war. Instead, Tan Hi is polite when necessary, but pays her little attention otherwise; she watches more than she speaks, and follows more than she leads.
Kei Gai wants to rip that shyness and naiveté out of Tan Hi, just to see who she truly is.
It's always their last night sleeping in a boarding house. That's how it is: "Rest now in case we don't get this chance again, " Shu Un Shou says, as if they're not all perfectly used to making do from the land, or able to protect themselves without a town around them.
It's almost amusing how protective they are of Tan Hi, though they all claim to have their own reasons for wanting to reach the Seven Sins Tower; she wonders if any of them bothered to ask her, or just assumed their roles naturally. Tan Hi isn't relaxed with them either, and it's the only sign of sadness that she doesn't hide.
Kei Gai finds her outside, looking down at the water garden as if it holds answers she doesn't have. There is water staining the bottom of her kimono, slowly rising up the linen and causing the lace to fall flat and heavy. Tan Hi is crying, at last; her tears mark her face and it looks, somehow, even more sweet; the tears leave lines down her cheeks, showing the true colour of her skin amid the smearing of black and white and pink. Her eyes widen when she sees Kei Gai, and if she were not soaked, she would have been able to flee. Instead, Kei Gai reaches her before she slips on the rocks, her getas unable to keep her stable in the water.
Tan Hi lets Kei Gai guide her out of the pond and into her room without a single protest or attempt to pull away. The light of the okiandon shows shadows under Tan Hi's eyes, as if she hadn't been sleeping.
It wouldn't be quite so fun if Tan Hi was exhausted, unable to so much as express pleasure, or otherwise, so Kei Gai is efficent when she removes Tan Hi's kanzashi, her kimono, and leaves her undergarments. Tan Hi looks so small without the marks of her calling; as if without them her very fragility is exposed for her grief and exhaustion to ravage her.
Kei Gai had been prepared to leave when Rin Setsu A had brought Tan Hi to her; she has camellia oil for Tan Hi's paint, and rice water for her skin. She doesn't mind sharing, for this, though it hurts to clean away the tear tracks and make Tan Hi's face merely unadorned, not dirtied. Without the paint, she just appears young, still at the point where the right words would cause her to stray.
Kei Gai hates that the Tengyouken is too important, too dangerous, or she would risk it to draw her name in Tan Hi's skin, taint her forever and then teach her how to be dangerous, how not to rely on others. Instead she lies down, carefully arranging her own kimono over Tan Hi, so to keep her warm while her own dries.
In the morning, she mixes white paint with her red, and paints Tan Hi's face so that nobody else can see her so small. It will be their secret.
And, perhaps after, Kei Gai will try again, see if that pure energy Tan Hi hides can be turned inward, tainted and corrupted into something both beautiful and worthy.