The first thing to return to her was a scent.
Sensation built up in waves and washed over her body. As if fighting against some invisible, demonic force, she repeatedly flexed the first thing she felt in her hands despite being shrouded in total darkness.
Smell, taste, touch, hearing. Even memory came before sight.
Rei, despite her best efforts to remain resolute and calm, was shaking even before she walked into the ceremonial hall with the group of her peers. Tension nagged at her lower back, periodically sending jitters up her spine as the group of girls were finally allowed a glimpse beyond the door, impossibly large and only seeming larger with every heavy, looming, passing minute, and inside, beckoned forward by the columns of tall, dark-robed figures and years of expectations. She could not see Saya among the masked observers, even if she knew she was there. Behind her mask, she had donned a vow of anonymity, divorced of all attachment, even if Rei meeting her placid gaze could be enough to assuage the sinking, anticipatory feeling of the young girl's heart. Maya nudged her from behind, reminding her of the sensation of her best friend's hand gripped knuckles white with her own, a third reminder of her own existence outside of her head spinning with thoughts.
Thoughts, doubts, fears.
Fear of the future, of the unknown. Fear of humiliation. Fear of Death.
—Death. The Goddess' embrace, a feather's paradoxical touch of vitality spreading across her brain like a drop of water on the tongue.
She was so afraid when they put her under, but now, even plunged into a dark unknown, a stillness of the mind ensued, panic as far away and foreign as across the sea. Perhaps because it wasn't unknown at all—this overwhelming scent of greenery, recalling the taste of cherries, the touch of something felt underneath her body, darkness, or the nearness of Death—a peace primordial, familiar and natural, as though in utero.
Her body rapidly regaining strength, she raised her arms and met with solid wood. She insouciantly lifted the coffin's cover from within, letting muted daylight light through to her covered eyes. With some effort, she moved the cover aside, a barely audible thud as it met the earth below, its apparent weight betraying the ease with which she moved it. Wind blew a chill across her naked body when she sat up, and she felt the ethereal touch of what it discarded on her arm.
Rei reached up to remove her cloth blindfold and take in what she could through bleary eyes. She felt the sides of the large and ornamented wooden coffin, its umbral color matching the trunks of surrounding cherry trees, which deposited their bright blossoms onto the ground and her bare body. The scene of The Underworld and all its irreplaceable, immortal beauty and silence bombarded Rei with sensation and memory. Sunlight stretched what it could into the clearing through the dense foliage, conveniently illuminating a wicker basket a short length away.
Rei stepped out of the coffin on wobbling legs, shedding flowers, one arm still gripping it for support as her bare feet unsettled the tiny petals underfoot, her toes sinking into the cool, pitch black dirt. Standing idle for a moment to center herself, another ghostly breeze made its way down the mountain and through the sprawling forest to where she stood, which she allowed this time to wash over her body unperturbed, if anything feeling rejuvenated by its holy essence.
She carefully approached the basket and examined its contents, all things easily recognizable.
First, a neatly-folded change of clothes. As opposed to the standard red and white robe and haori combo she was accustomed to and dressed in for the start of the ritual, she lifted and looked up and down the length of the pure-white kimono, its color making an especially stark contrast to the deepness of the ground and trees, but complementing the paleness and phantom delicacy of their fallen flower petals.
She slipped into the garment, the smoothness of the unsullied Underworld fabric on her skin like nothing she had ever felt before, briefly recalling how she had fussed and fretted so fervently this morning, tying and retying her obi over and over again until she twisted her brain into knots with nerves and had Maya do it for her. No sooner than her having recounted that memory in her head did she find her new obi tied perfectly without a second thought.
She peered down at the remaining items in the basket, including a short blade, but special attention was given to the ceramic effect swaddled by a lightweight cloth. She slowly reached down to pick up the foxlike visage, bringing it close to her face with a sort of reverence.
Her new Death Mask, to symbolize a fledgling devotee, with a new, personalized inscription.
—'BELIEF'.
She recognized the flourishing calligraphy as Saya's. With any luck, it was hers to keep forever. Before letting a flood of emotion overtake her, Rei considered the knife.
Single-edged blade, nearly as long as her forearm in total, almost akin to a short sword. When she picked it up, its heft felt natural in her right hand. Its blade was thin, tempered, and as dark as the soil below, nearly blending in if not for the highly reflective surface. In it, Rei spotted her own reflection, noticing that the pallor that had overtaken her bangs since the last time had now become paler still.
To retain everything she treasured necessitated taking it for herself.
It was time to grow up, to prove herself. With her off-hand, she fitted her Death Mask against her face, its invigoration already taking effect, undoubtedly compounded by the excess of the mystic air.
She must kill before she is allowed to return. She will not fail again.
