Kikyo does not visit her sister anymore. The little girl, not yet ten, who screamed her name as Kikyo died, didn't love her anymore. Coldness hurts, hostility also, but together . . . they wound.

Kaede feels nothing. She is not contrite. Growing up, only she asked, If Kikyo could come back . . . Kikyo did return . . . fifty years belated.

Kaede was hardened, embittered. She curses her for her abandonment. You lie . . . You don't resent Kikyo, you envy her . . . While your beauty wrinkles, she remains young forever . . .

To envy another is to feel ill will, jealousy, or discontent at the person's possession of something that one keenly desires to have or achieve oneself. Jealousy is used between rivals, while envy has no bounds.