“Finally… we’ve finally arrived…” Sakuya breathed, having at last ascended the final stone step. Had she not been clinging to a maiden’s composure, she might have simply collapsed onto the ground.
“So… this is why, despite your clear interest in Hoshimori Shrine, you never visit?” Shion inquired, having practically dragged Sakuya up the entire path. This marked the first time she had ever felt so utterly exhausted climbing the shrine’s stairs, a consequence of pulling someone along. Ordinarily, even if her athletic prowess didn’t quite match her sister’s, the daily climb home was a routine she was long accustomed to, traversing it as if on flat ground.
Both girls were gasping for breath, their chests heaving. The only discernible difference was that Shion could at least remain standing, whereas Sakuya beside her was already crouched on the ground. If a sheet of paper were laid out, she would instantly lie down.
“I… I’ll go back and change first,” Shion said, her voice still a little breathless. “You should rest for a bit. There’s a stone bench by the shrine entrance; you can sit there. Once you’ve rested, feel free to look around.”
Sakuya nodded, then hesitantly asked, “Then, Hoshimori-san, what about your sister…?”
“She still has a while with her rehearsal,” Shion replied, making an effort to steady her breathing. “It’s good for me to come back early and introduce the shrine to a new friend, and besides, I’ll need to make dinner for her later. I also thought, why put off till tomorrow what you can do today? Since Ayane has rehearsal again today, I figured I’d bring you over today.”
“I… I’m truly sorry,” Sakuya stammered, “my health hasn’t been great since I was little, and climbing stairs is something I’m truly terrible at.” Though she was too exhausted to even lift her head, she still managed a small bow of apology to Shion.
“It’s fine,” Shion reassured her. “I’ve always been terrible at studying since I was a kid; everyone has things they’re not good at. Phew, I’m exhausted…” She took another deep breath, trying to steady her own breathing, then turned and walked towards the living quarters.
As she adjusted her breathing and settled onto the stone bench, Sakuya pulled a book from her satchel and began to read. It seemed this was her unique way of resting.
Less than ten minutes later, Shion emerged, already clad in her formal Miko attire. The pure white and deep crimson garments seemed to radiate a sense of brightness and hope from her very being.
Sakuya appeared utterly engrossed in her book. Her lustrous black hair, bangs, and simple black-rimmed glasses could not conceal the sparkle and deep absorption in her eyes as her slender fingers delicately turned the pages. Her movements were so light, as gentle as a fallen leaf drifting onto a mirror-smooth lake, leaving behind nothing but soft, fleeting ripples.
She was a sight as beautiful as a painting.
Shion approached her with light steps, then softly whispered into her ear, “Kujou-san, I’m back.”
Sakuya let out a soft cry, like a startled cat. Her hand, mid-page-turn, paused for a moment, trembling slightly.
“Oh, I… I’m sorry, I was a bit too absorbed,” Sakuya quickly apologized, closing the book and placing it back into her satchel before looking up at Shion.
However, as her gaze fell upon Shion, Sakuya’s hand paused.
Shion, dressed in this attire, was truly beautiful. Moreover, that unusually short skirt, which felt as though it could reveal something with even the slightest movement, would indeed evoke certain… ‘thoughts’ in anyone who saw Shion in her Miko outfit.
“What’s wrong, Kujou-san?” Shion asked, tilting her head innocently.
Sakuya’s face flushed crimson. She averted her gaze, not daring to look at Shion, and her right hand instinctively placed the book back into her satchel. “Um, Hoshimori-san,” she mumbled, “sitting here, I think I can see…”
The white-haired girl still tilted her head, seemingly unaware of what was happening.
“Shion-san… are you wearing white today?” Sakuya’s voice was barely a whisper, as soft as the buzz of a mosquito.
“Whoa! You can actually see it?!” Shion exclaimed, quickly clutching her skirt and unconsciously taking a few steps back.
Sakuya, her face still flushed, coughed lightly. Then, as if to change the subject, she remarked, “The scenery around Hoshimori Shrine is really beautiful, you know. All around are trees and little birds.”
“In the fair month of early spring, when the air is clear and the wind gentle, plum blossoms adorn themselves with powder before a mirror, and orchids exhale their fragrance from behind a pendant.” Sakuya, almost unconsciously, seemed to recite a waka (TL Note: A classical Japanese poem, often contrasted with more modern forms like haiku. This specific line is from the preface to the poems of the Manyoshu).
“That was beautiful…” Shion murmured, feeling an urge to applaud.
“It’s a poem from the Manyoshu (TL Note: The oldest existing collection of Japanese poetry), and I think… it perfectly suits the scenery of the shrine,” Sakuya explained, holding up the book she had just been reading and gently waving it before Shion. Its green, hardcover binding bore the title “Manyoshu” in exquisite golden script. The book was remarkably well-preserved, and though it appeared quite new, its inner pages had clearly been turned many times, showing noticeable signs of wear.
“That’s amazing…” Shion exclaimed admiringly. “I can never pay attention in class.”
Sakuya shook her head, a little embarrassed. “I can’t pay attention in class either, really; I just happen to like these books. When I’m bored, I might just flip through them and read a bit, that’s all.”
“Well, anyway, let’s go worship first. I’ll take you,” Shion said. “It’s been so long since we’ve had any other visitors come to worship; the shrine is practically gathering mold.”
Passing through the vibrant red torii (TL Note: A traditional Japanese gate most commonly found at the entrance of or within a Shinto shrine, symbolically marking the transition from the mundane to the sacred) and walking along the moss-covered stone path, the afternoon breeze was clear and cool, gently brushing against the shoulders of the two girls. The wind chimes hanging by the entrance to the living quarters swayed softly, emitting a series of pleasant tinkling sounds.
The entire worship process was not complicated; indeed, Shion had deliberately simplified the procedure to encourage more visitors. Before the main hall, the Miko would purify her hands and symbolically sweep away dust, guiding the visitors to clap their hands together, offer a prayer, and make a wish to the deities, after which the ritual was essentially complete.
The brevity and swiftness of the process even left Sakuya feeling a little surprised.
Shion shook the Kagura suzu (TL Note: A bell tree used in Shinto rituals) in her hand, performed another respectful bow to the deities, then turned to Sakuya.
“And that’s it,” Shion announced, her voice as melodious as the tinkling of the Kagura suzu.
“Th-that’s all?” Sakuya asked, a hint of surprise in her tone. “I thought it was just starting, and now we’ve already moved to the wish-making part, and it’s over?”
“Well…” Shion said, scratching her head. “I deliberately simplified some of the procedures. I thought it might attract more visitors to worship, and perhaps be more efficient?…”
“But that’s precisely what I find curious,” Sakuya said, pushing up her glasses. “Even though the process has been simplified, you, as the Miko, still fundamentally incorporate all the duties typically performed by Shinto priests (TL Note: ‘Shinkan,’ or ‘kannushi,’ are Shinto priests responsible for the maintenance of a Shinto shrine and for leading worship of a kami) at other shrines into your ritual. This suggests that Hoshimori Shrine has indeed been managed by a Miko for a long time.”
“Having personally experienced the worship ritual at Hoshimori Shrine,” Sakuya continued, “I can now be even more certain about the content I’ve written in my script.”