But she was different. A sweep of her hand cast the shadows away, banished the phantoms and made the creatures scuttle into the furthest corners. Then that same hand was stretched out towards them; not exactly inviting, but also not entirely threatening. “Come. This is no place for the living.” The stench of their mother’s corpse clung to them, clogging their nose, irritating their too dry eyes. Blood roared in their ears. At the lack of response, she reached forward, grabbed Kenjaku’s wrist and pulled them to their feet. They stumbled, almost tripping over the feeble legs of the corpse, but her grip steadied them. Their skin was dirty and leathery against hers, their arm like a twig between her fingers – ready to snap. But her hand was warm around theirs, her skin soft and comforting. It was the most gentle touch they had felt in a long while – they couldn’t remember how long. “Let’s go.” Kenjaku had defended their mother with bared teeth, chipped nails and a growl in their throat, but for some reason it was easy now to go with this unknown woman, to step into the bright sunlight and leave the dark of the shrine and the remains of their mother behind. Fresh wind welcomed them, cleared their head, chased away the veil of death. A pressure seemed to lift from their shoulders, their gait felt lighter, the world gained more colour. Everything was vibrant, loud, sensations rushing in on them. Her hand kept them grounded; holding them up, leading them further away – away from the dark past and into the future she promised them. Their trust in her was blind, unfounded. However it wasn’t like there was anything else. Numbly they watched as their makeshift home lit up in flames, the body of their mother hidden somewhere within. Maybe she was finally free, maybe she was shuddering in agony as the flames tore apart what was left of her. No matter, she was out of reach, gone to where Kenjaku couldn’t follow her and all they had left was the woman by their side. Without looking back, they let themselves be pulled away.