/jp/ - Otaku Culture

"I miss your food… but also the way you'd sit upside down on the couch; the way you'd hug me and get me off the ground—you're just so tall~" She laughs, and it's accompanied by a soft, pained gurgle. "I miss your excitement and the way you'd light up my mornings… Mokou, I never blamed you for anything." There's so much I want her to know, feel. How'll her eyes shine when she holds Aki, Kuramochi? When she learns about my plans, the things I went through? Excitement pumps my blood. "I miss you in my life." I whisper.

Somehow her eyes got even bigger, her hand on mine so tight it hurts—in a good way. "Y-You don't blame me for all that?! I said awful things! Was a terrible friend! I could've done more; could've listened, but I did not and—"

I laugh. It's sudden and hearty; the moon hears, the fish hear it, and Mokou looks so befuddled I don’t doubt her brain had shut down for a second. Laughter dies as tears roll, the smile on my face hurting, denying with a head sway. "All you did was react, Mokou…" My smile turns guilty. "All the lies I told, letting the charade build. It all hurt so much, and I could've stopped anytime… But the peer pressure of knowing your smile would fade… I gave in to that and let that bomb explode." Her face contorted into a bunch of difficult emotions, confused on what to express: rage, guilt, pity, empathy…? I squeezed her hand, and she showed understanding. "It was my fault; I was weak and paid the price—and, for everything, Mokou, I'm sorry… Do you forgive me?"

To say those words, to let it all out of my chest… It feels good—

—but Mokou stops that with one word. "IDIOT!" I’m taken aback by the yell, gawking at her; her face burned with frustration—literally: flames danced around her pristine hair, perfectly framing red eyes. "Acting as if you carry the world around! You're not alone, idiot! I did wrong too; I was a shit friend, Keine! Even Kaguya realized that! You deserve as much of an apology! It's not just because you can mess up with history that you should live yours alone; you're not Almus… no, wait, that's not the guy—uh—Atlc…"

Beyond the utter feeling of being flabbergasted, I laugh more.

"Atlas, who carried the skies."

She snapped her fingers, excitement shown in the twisting flames. "Yes, that's the guy! You're not him—you don't need to carry this weight alone, dork!"

… Oh, the tears have returned.

It's true, right? In that fear, surrounded by lies, I pushed people away. No wonder I crumbled under the pressure…

I look into her eyes, Mokou struggling to regain her breath, pulling her hand back as to clean her face… "I accept your apology, Keine… Do you accept mine?"

… Ah…

This feeling… It's like flying across the sky with my babies. It's freedom unlike anything else, an enchanting moment, and it sees me true. It's enough to fill this restless heart with a thousand feelings that bubble to the surface.

"Y-Yes. I do."

Mokou pauses; her chest swells… Then she giggles lowly, gets up, turns to the moon and— "HELL YEEEEAAAAAH!!" She shouts to the skies, probably awaking Heaven's residents and I can't; I simply can't: I'm laughing. Out loud. Very loudly. Mokou is also laughing, pumping her fist, flames as if wings behind her—just watching her… The undescribable feeling inside my heart gains a name, and it is 'freedom'. "Man, this feels so good~I feel like I could take on a mountain!" She jitters, rushes at me, and before I even know it, I’m lifted off my seat, Mokou spinning around and laughing, holding me as a bride. "I think I'll go cause the Tengu some problems! I'll start a forest fire! OH, THEY'LL GET SO MAD!!" She puts me down, and I hold her hand—her heartbeat is through the roof, smile shining—giving her a disapproving look. She scratched her nape. "Heh, sorry~"

I giggle, my head feeling light. "Ah~all these emotions… I'm starving now."

"I know, right?! Come!" Even though she says that, she picks me up again and carries me to the table, gently sitting me down. "You'll love it~I've been preparing it for days! Most was me trying to remember your tastes—you big picky eater—Japanese," she counts on her fingers, frowning. "—things with cultural background; mild and sweetened; but nothing greasy or spicy." My face is pure red, smile wide, heart full. So thoughtful of her~the look in my face gave in. "Nailed it, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did, Mokou."

She was laughing, bringing the food to the table. Blissful moments followed as we ate good food and talked, mostly about what we did and the terrible rumors that have arisen about me. She was fuming with Mr. Hieda's delusion, mumbled about punching some kids when I told her about the stoning—an idea I promptly dissipated—and was entranced as I described my last stand to protect two poor souls, not telling her they were babies or Mystia's actions; the first was a surprise and the latter would be discussed more thoughtfully later.

As we finished, I caught her hand, excited. “Mokou… I want to show you something wonderful."