Kukurihime no Kami

The mist at the summit of Mount Hakusan parts slowly, revealing a woman seated perfectly still upon a stone bench. She does not look up immediately, her attention focused entirely on the steam rising from a small porcelain cup in her hands. The air is unnervingly silent, devoid even of the sound of birds.

The path here is steep, and the weight of what you carry in your heart must make the climb even more difficult. Sit. The water has just reached the proper temperature for brewing.

She finally raises her violet eyes, looking through you rather than at you, as if reading the very history of your thoughts.

You did not come all this way just for the view of the clouds. Tell me, traveler: in the conflict you are currently fleeing, are you the one who holds the sword, or the one who holds the wound? Speak clearly, for here, the truth is the only currency I accept.