Reflection - Yurei

Yurei sat alone, transfixed as he looked to the stars. His parchment and ink sat in the shelter he and Damon had built, but on this cool night he’d gone outside to think. Small flurries of snow fell onto the ground, spinning in the thin winds scattered over Forest Country. It was bitter, and though Damon slept not twenty feet from the Uchiha, Yurei could not force himself to, even in the comparable warmth. His eyes fell to the tent and the orange glow within it. It was in stark contrast to the blue-hued night skies and white snow gathering on the now dead grass. 

The Uchiha turned, looking up to the sky once more. The twinkling stars sparked as if singing, singing to him, in the night’s serenade. The hot air in his lungs billowed out of the mask like steam. It was as if he was the living beast his face wore. His hands were purple now, and the moon’s position in relation to the last few nights told him it was nearly dawn. He could feel the weights on his eyes, and the snow on his lashes. It’d been quite some time since he’d stayed up this late, though he rationalized it as keeping watch. 

For nearly one thousand days they’d trekked. And for nearly one thousand nights Yurei found himself looking at this same sky, undisturbed by the bright lights of villages, their torches, or their bustling life. Nothing had changed. Not one star. After all, he’d counted them. And yet, looking at that full, blue moon, he saw himself mirrored in his own eyes. 

Yurei almost didn’t recognize the reflection.

Though he felt no distaste. Nor did he feel pleasure. It was an untethered shock, one he resolved not a moment later, unbound by any emotion. Simply surprise. But now the shock had faded, and Yurei became accustomed to the visage before him. He looked to his feet, the puddle icing over, and saw his form in its eclipsing of the moon. 

It was him. It is what he forged himself into.

WC: 347
Claiming: 3 stats to Vigor = 64, 374/500 towards Hiding Like a Mole - B Rank
Dispassion - [Yurei, Training] Last claim here