/jp/ - Otaku Culture

Mokou had moved when the festival started to pick up, morbidly curious fools flooding to eateries and amusement stalls, eyes on exotic trinkets and food being sold at banana prices. Perched on one of the roofs, the immortal's icy eyes never left Mr. Hieda or me. At consistent intervals, she'd shoot one white firework skyward, her folded fire wings a terrifying omen for those who didn’t support Keine's cause and a beacon of safety for those who did. However, there was also a pervasive aura of calm reassurance that said, ‘Only a fool would start a fight under these conditions.’

I glanced towards Mr. Hieda, his eyes behind the demonic mask staring at Mokou as if an obstacle and not the unmovable object she is…

A note of tension rises inside, a question on the tip of my tongue refusing to leave: If I got the answer to why he was intending to attack Mokou and the Kurodanis even with villagers right below them…

What'd I do?

A shrine maiden's job is not to mediate this kind of situation but to whack the Youkai that's misbehaving…

“S-Sanae-sama?” I turn to my only apprentice here—Sayori—all others were moved from the front walls as having to bear the pressure of Mokou's gaze was making them sick. Mr. Hieda’s samurai, on the other hand, weren’t so lucky; their eyes filled with dread as they stared at Death sitting across the street. Such fear can propel forward terribly dumb decisions… “Nothing was done to the walls, and our seals and barriers are intact.”

There goes the possibility of the festival being distraction…

Not a distraction, not a way to encircle and siege the Hieda state, not even a cover-up for a shady ritual of any kind…

What the hell is the purpose of this?

Swallowing and huffing, I decide to take matters into my own hands—last time I refused to do so, Hana was almost taken away; not again, not again…

“I'll go in there.” I say, and pairs of bulging eyes turn to me, but I focus on the worst of them. “Although Keine's actions right now seem harmless, things could quickly change if we don’t do anything.” There’s suspicion in Mr. Hieda's eyes, and none of my words change it. Tsk…

“That witch is luring you into a trap; she knew there'd be opposition when she and her devil came to scout,” he says, staring Mokou in the eye, a hand on his katana. “… You seem eager to fall for it, too.”

“What…?” Did I understand him correctly? My apprentice and his samurai are either too nervous to move or are staring worriedly at each other. What a mess… “You've contracted me, and now you're implying I'd conspire against you? I'm a shrine maiden! We maintain the peace, Mr. Hieda!” Rage burns.

The mask and kabuto hide his reaction as the seconds of 'silence' stretch—the hustle and bustle of people as they converse and generally enjoy the festival is as loud as it is harmful to morale: Mr. Hieda’s samurai know these people; maybe some are their friends, relatives or even lovers. Perhaps that's the point…?

Ugh, the smell of good food tickles my senses, too, but I’m dieting…

“Hm… That was unsensitive of me. I'm deeply sorry, Sanae-san.” Mr. Hieda says, taking me away from my thoughts. He continues, his expression hidden from view. “Go ahead and gather information, but keep all of your apprentices here. If my suspicions about this being a trap are correct, I'll need protection.” Déjà vu is, gratingly, as expected as it is obvious: ‘an olive branch disguised as a sword.’

My apprentices who never experienced combat outside Danmaku surrounded by armed men that could, upon one word, kill them… Sitting ducks.

An assurance that there's nothing between me and the revolutionaries.

Hardly maintaining this facade, I bow a little. “Of course, Mr. Hieda.” And so, after exchanging a few words with the closest of my apprentices—'keep yourself vigilant'—I jump over the walls and onto the festival below, the atmosphere immediately switching from a heavy, almost suffocating dread to an excited and obliviously curious enjoyment—

—two fireworks rise to the skies and explode, the usual white and the other emerald green. I tsc, so it had a purpose…

I stroll the festival with purpose—w-wow, they’re selling gunpla so cheap over there!… No, focus—drawing glances from humans and youkai; the latter, naturally wary of shrine maidens, watch intently but… do nothing. “Do not attack Sanae,” I heard being whispered amongst the stall owners. Knowing that Keine can easily communicate with her forces, even in this crowded festival, makes my skin crawl… If she were to really attack…

Still, where is she?

She came leading that march, Suzu at her side, then vanished amidst the crowd as people ran to their stalls… Is she anticipating something?

Well, I don't need to speak directly to her to get my answers: eyes locking on the neatly organized book stall, people flocking to buy and look with curiosity, humans and youkai talking.

I ignored them all, my eyes on Motoori Kosuzu.

Three fireworks explode in the skies: white, emerald green and brown.

>>46666284
do not bully her!! I-It was a fine joke!