Once the valley’s stasis was lifted, the air felt impossibly light.
The breeze brushed against her cheeks, and the grass rippled in unison. Just the fact that she had returned to a world of motion made Koyoi’s heart swell.
She sank to her knees and took a long, deep breath. The heavy weight deep inside her began to dissipate, bit by bit. Beside her, Asahi sheathed his sword and steadied his breathing. The silence following the battle was so tranquil it was almost frightening.
That night, they built a small fire on the outskirts of the valley. As they sat around the flames, the warmth finally seemed to reach the core of their bodies. Koyoi cradled the drawstring pouch, as if tucking the Wind God in; Asahi rested his sword across his knees and stared silently into the fire.
"...I wonder... what did that man mean by ‘eternity’?"
At Koyoi’s murmur, Asahi let out a short, sharp breath.
"To be motionless is no different from being dead. That’s how I see it."
Koyoi nodded. Because there is movement, one can laugh. Because one can move, one can cry. That is where life dwells.
She looked back toward the valley. The birds that had been frozen in mid-air took flight, and the creek began to flow again with a rhythmic babble. Leaves fell, striking the rock face with a faint, echoing sound. Each time a sound returned, the colors of the world seemed to grow more vivid.
"...We’re safe now, aren't we?"
Koyoi whispered. Asahi gave a curt nod.
"For now. But the same thing will happen again elsewhere."
His words were heavy, yet it was a reality she had heard many times during their journey. Koyoi hugged her pouch close, confirming that the flame within her chest was still burning.
Asahi wiped the blood from his forehead with a cloth. "Just because you don't stop doesn't mean you've won," he muttered. Koyoi nodded, etching the meaning of not stopping into her heart.
The Wind God spun slowly, showing signs of exhaustion. Koyoi stroked the mouth of the pouch and whispered, "Rest for a while." The Wind God let out a tiny cry and grew still, as if finally finding peace.
At the exit of the valley stood a small stone shrine, covered in a thick layer of moss. Koyoi pressed her hands together in prayer, offering thanks to the spirits that remained in the valley. Because there are lives that were saved, I can go on to save the next. She told herself this as if it were a mantra.
Once they cleared the valley, the path stretched toward the mountains once again. The lingering scent of rain vanished, replaced by the strengthening smell of dry earth. The ground was soft, the earth yielding with a distinct sound under every step. Asahi consulted a map, confirming the location of the next mountain pass.
Koyoi noticed the words "Tsukimidai"—the Moon-Viewing Platform—written at the edge of the map. A "platform for viewing the moon." The name alone brought her a sense of calm. Asahi explained that it was a town in a large basin, a place where they could replenish their medicine and food.
Along the way, they crossed a small wooden bridge where the river below shimmered in the light. Koyoi rested her hand on the railing; the cold sensation of the wood brought home the sheer length of their journey. Asahi didn't stop, moving forward with steady indifference. To keep pace with him, Koyoi crossed the bridge as well.
"There’s a human town ahead."
"Another post town?"
"Yeah. A big one, apparently. It’ll be perfect for gathering information."
Koyoi nodded. Information meant survival. The movements of the Observers, the path to the Kamiatsume, the presence of the next god to be saved. All of it was necessary to continue the journey. Besides, their supply of dried rice cakes was running low, and her canteen was growing light. Koyoi checked her pack and quickened her stride. Her legs were weary, but their journey stretched on.
Over the next few days, they crossed several more passes. They trekked through grasslands, forded rivers, and trod along mountain ridges. At night, they slept within the small circle of the campfire’s light; in the morning, they stepped through grass wet with dew. The Wind God gradually regained its strength, and the sound of it spinning lightly within the pouch returned.
There were rainy days. There were nights when the wind was so fierce the fire nearly went out. Each time, Koyoi would clutch the pouch and plead with the Wind God, "Please." The wind would blow a tiny breath, protecting the flame. Their traveling wisdom grew. The fear never vanished, but she was learning how to walk alongside it.
Along the road, they heard travelers whispering rumors of the Observers.
"A group in white clothes passed through the valley."
"They say there was a lake that wouldn't move."
Koyoi listened intently, etching the rumors into her mind. The Observers appeared everywhere. That was all the more reason to steel her heart so she could protect the wind at any time.
One night, Koyoi dreamed of the frozen bird taking flight once more. The bird soared into the sky, carried by the wind. When she woke, the wind inside her pouch was spinning gently, chirping as if telling the rest of the dream. Koyoi listened to the sound and told herself she could keep walking.
During their travels, they stopped at a small village to restock their dried cakes and salt. The villagers were kind, but an air of restlessness hung over the place. The rumors of the Observers had spread far. Hearing this, Koyoi felt her inner resolve burn a little brighter.
A village elder told them of Tsukimidai. "It’s a basin town with many apothecaries. Travelers gather there, so you’ll find information." Then, he added in a low whisper, "They say there’s a child there with eyes made of glass." The words caught in Koyoi’s mind, and she unconsciously gripped her pouch.
Before leaving the village, Koyoi washed her face with water from a small well. The cold water stung her cheeks, chasing away her drowsiness. A village child waved to her, and Koyoi offered a small wave back. Even these brief interactions left behind a human warmth. That warmth became the strength to continue the journey.
"Are you tired?"
Asahi asked on the road at twilight. Koyoi shook her head.
"I am. But the thought of standing still is worse."
Asahi gave a faint smile and matched his pace to hers. The Wind God spun softly in the pouch, chirping in time with their footsteps. When their strides aligned, a strange sense of peace settled over her. The realization that the three of them were walking together pushed Koyoi forward.
That night, the clouds parted, and a waxing moon illuminated the path. Koyoi looked up, remembering that the name of their destination contained the word "Moon." The moonlight was quiet, yet it served as a steady guide. Asahi muttered that the moon made night travel easier, and Koyoi nodded in agreement.
Near the pass stood an ancient signpost. It pointed in several directions, its characters worn away by wind and rain, yet the two characters for "Tsukimidai" remained clearly legible. Koyoi touched the inscription, realizing just how far they had come. The shadow of the signpost stretched long, signaling that evening was near.
A few days later, they stood atop a high pass. The wind was strong, whipping their hair. Below them, a massive basin spread out. The tiered roofs of the houses caught the setting sun, shimmering like light reflecting off a lake.
The voices of people carried on the wind, faintly reaching them. The scent of the town—the aroma of cooking fires—tickled her nose. The distant ring of a bell mingled with the sound of wagon wheels striking stone. It was the sound of bustling life. Koyoi felt her heart lighten at the long-awaited presence of other people.
The lights from the roofs shimmered across the water, trails of flickering light enveloping the entire basin. This was the light of a living town, so different from the frozen valley. Koyoi felt as though she wanted to reach out and touch that light.
"...So that’s the next town."
Koyoi narrowed her eyes. The journey continued beneath the open sky. But here, the journey of Chapter 2 reached a turning point. Together with the Wind God, she had crossed mountains and valleys, and at the end of that road, a new light had finally come into view.
Within that light, there would surely be someone’s anxiety or sorrow. But for now, they would breathe the town’s air and gather information. That would lead to the next salvation. Koyoi told herself this firmly.
Asahi said simply, "Let's go," and Koyoi nodded. The wind at her back pushed her onward. The two of them began the slow descent toward the town.
As the cobblestones drew nearer, the sounds of their footsteps changed. From the sound of earth to the sounds of the town. Koyoi walked, confirming this change with every step, quietly steadying the warmth in her chest.
The entrance to the town was almost there. The wind gave her back one more gentle nudge. The light in her chest responded quietly.
It won't go out. It continues. Always. For now. Someday. Surely.
Koyoi gripped her pouch and felt the light within. The wind pushed her onward. The next story was waiting, just ahead.