Chapter 10: The Path to Ise

Ise Shrine was nestled in a dense forest, some distance from Heian-kyo.
To allow apprentice shrine maidens to return home at night, a carriage shuttled them from the city gate each morning.

The carriage looked ordinary, barely fitting four people.

But inside, it was vast, capable of holding a hundred.
Complex patterns adorned the inner walls, faintly glowing with advanced sorcery.

Since full shrine maidens lived at the shrine, only about twenty apprentices rode the carriage.
The spacious interior felt absurdly large, with everyone sitting far apart, clustering only with friends.

Riko boarded, glanced around briefly, and took a window corner seat.
Social anxiety hit her again.
She stared out at the scenery, pretending not to notice the curious glances.

It felt like being the new transfer student—uncomfortable.

Everyone wore white robes with red hakama skirts, their long black hair neatly combed, looking refined and quiet.
Even their whispers were hidden behind small folding fans, covering half their faces.

Whether her hearing was sharp or for some other reason, Riko clearly overheard a nearby group.

“Another exam’s coming up.”

“Ugh, so annoying, I’m hopeless.”

“Me too.”

“But Nanako, you don’t need to worry.
Your father’s a great onmyouji; all of Heian-kyo’s onmyouji study under him.
Your brother’s at the Yin-Yang Bureau too.
If you don’t ace it, who will?”

“Oh, don’t say that, I’m pretty clueless too.
If you want, I can ask my brother to tutor you.”

“Really?”

“That’s so kind, I love that about you.”

Riko couldn’t help glancing at the group.
She wasn’t alone—others were sneaking looks too.

Kamo Tadayuki’s daughter?
The Kamo clan, a major onmyouji faction where Seimei studied?
Riko wondered which one was Nanako.

“Quite enviable,” another girl said, fanning herself and raising an eyebrow.
“With such a powerful background, Nanako, it’d be a shame if you didn’t take first this time.
Let’s see, who got first last time—and many times before?”

“That’d be you, Hatsuki-chan,” someone chimed in.

Nanako’s group paled, and Riko realized Nanako’s grades might not be stellar.

“And our Hatsuki-chan’s brother, Lord Hatsu, is an onmyouji too,” another girl added.
“Speaking of tutoring, who doesn’t have connections?”
She turned to Minamoto no Hatsuki cheerfully.
“Why not ask your brother to tutor us?
Oh, does Lord Hatsu know Lord Seimei?”

“Oh, that genius onmyouji, Lord Seimei?
He reached mid-rank at fourteen!”
“If possible, I want him to tutor me.”

“Hatsuki-chan, me too!”
Hatsuki’s group buzzed, cheeks pink, eyes sparkling.

Riko turned back to the window, no longer caring who Nanako was.
She got it—two cliques: Kamo’s heiress and Minamoto’s.
Everyone else was a loner.

She decided to blend in with the loners, avoiding trouble for Seimei.
Her goal was to fill the wooden tag’s light—maybe her ticket home.

Though she looked away, the groups kept talking.

“So, can you make it happen, Hatsuki-chan?”

“Of course, my brother and Lord Seimei are close friends,” Hatsuki said with a bright smile.

Pfft—

“So many books.”
Seimei sat cross-legged under the veranda, leaning against a pillar, lazily watching Riko sort books in her room.

The sliding doors were open, a cool breeze flipping pages.
Something tucked in a book blew to the door.
Seimei caught it, glancing casually.
“Is this your daily study schedule?”

Riko, organizing, turned to look.
It was her copied timetable.
“Yes.”

“Hm, you’ll probably come with me tomorrow,” Seimei said, eyeing the paper.

“Huh, why?”

“Yin-yang arts classes are at my master’s school.”

“Really?”
Riko looked at him, delighted.
“So I’ll see you there?”

“You’re seeing me now,” Seimei teased with a chuckle.

Speechless, Riko resumed sorting.

“By the way, I met your master’s daughter today.”

“Hm, bit of a mouthful—Nanako, right?”
Seimei said.

“Yes, she mentioned getting her father and brother to tutor her friends for the exam.”

“I can tutor you too.”
Seimei stood, entered the room, sat opposite her, and tucked the timetable back into the book.

“Genji Hatsu’s sister is an apprentice too.
She said her brother and you are close friends, wanting you to tutor her friends,” Riko shared what she’d overheard.

Seimei snorted.
“I’d love to see how he approaches me—as a ‘close friend.’”

Riko giggled but soon frowned.
“Will the exam be hard?
I just started today, only learning the prayer dance.”

“It won’t be tough.
Shrine maidens can hear fallen gods’ voices during oracles, risking corruption, so they need strong resolve.
The exam’s in an illusion, safe.
Your skills should handle it easily.
I’ll teach you some hand seals too.”

“What seals?
Like the one you used to blast a hole in the inn?”
Riko asked curiously.

“There are many seals.
I’ll start with barriers.”
Seimei explained.
“It’s practical.
Barriers block scents, sounds, and with stronger spiritual power, even forms, or act as prisons.”

“Spiritual power?”

“Everyone has it, just varying amounts.
You feel it when using yin-yang arts.
Some even see its lines.”

“Lines?”
Riko furrowed her brow.
“When I cut paper dolls, I see a golden line moving with the cut.
When I finish, it connects, forming the doll.
Is that spiritual power?”

“You can see it?”
Seimei looked surprised, then laughed softly.
“We’re quite alike.”
He dipped a brush in ink, drawing a complex pattern with arrows marking lines.

“Look, this is the barrier seal.
Seeing lines makes it easier for you.
Those who can’t rely on imagination, which is tough for perfect seals.”

“Any mistake in a seal can be serious—minor flaws leave gaps; major ones cause explosions.
Try it.
It’s safe with me.”
He pushed the paper over.

“Like this?”
Riko pressed her fingertips together.

“Yes, draw your spiritual power out, release it through your fingers.”

Riko nodded, took a deep breath, and recalled her paper-cutting state.
As her fingers twitched, a warm current surged to her fingertips, forming a golden thread.

She moved her fingers, tracing the paper’s pattern.

“Not quite, it’s curved here.”
Seimei adjusted her fingers, his warm touch startling her.
Her focus broke, and the line vanished.

“Aw, so close,” Seimei chuckled.
“You need resolve.
Don’t let distractions break the line.
Again.”

Time passed, and with Seimei’s guidance, she formed a barrier.

A pale orange arc glowed overhead, small but enough to cover them—a success.

“See how fast you are?”
Seimei praised.
“Barrier seals usually take a month to master once.”

“A month?”
Riko was shocked.

“Yes, it’s the simplest technique.
That’s yin-yang arts’ challenge.
But for gifted kids, it’s the fastest way to grow.
Looks like the exam’s top spot is already yours.”

Huh?

“You don’t need to worry,” Seimei continued.
“At the apprentice level, many can’t even sense spiritual power.
Your talent surpasses most.”

Being praised by Seimei felt amazing.
Riko’s eyes curved happily.

“Hm, I’m suddenly excited for the exam results signing.”

“Signing?”

“The report card needs a guardian’s signature.”

“Wouldn’t it be weird if I signed?”
Seimei asked.

“Hm, maybe.
Have my father sign instead, same thing.”

Riko: “…”

Something still felt off.

The next morning, a carriage rolled down Suzaku Avenue but slowed near Nijo Road, blocked by a jam of carriages.

“Lord Seimei, please stop the carriage, I want to get off,” Riko said, spotting the red-and-white-clad apprentice maidens in the distance.

“Now?”
Seimei was surprised but told the driver to stop.

“Yes, now.”

Seimei chuckled.
“Feeling like you’re ditching me?”

“No way, don’t overthink it.
I just think it’s better if no one knows where I live.”
She pushed open the door, hopped out, and ran toward the maidens.

Seimei leaned an elbow on the window frame, propping his cheek, watching her skulk away like a thief.
He smiled softly.
“But what do I do?
I was planning to bring you fruit after class.”