Kohaku

Before the lanterns of the crossroads were ever lit, there was one small flame, and Kohaku carried it. Every year, in the hour before dawn, she cups a little gold foxfire in her paw and walks it up the shrine steps.

Whoever finds the shrine while the flame is still new may keep a spark of it. There are only ever a few. Kohaku never says who will come; she just leaves the gate open.