/jp/ - Otaku Culture

>>44973031
(5/6)
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Yukari doesn't know of my little escapes to the Hakurei Shrine—yet.

Thinking now, with the growing chasm of our relationship, the demanding HSE, and her own volatile persona, the last time I properly saw her was when Chen disappeared for hours and returned home battered—I and Anon showered her with love that night, changed her bandages, fed her the necessary meds, Anon even stitched the cut on her forehead and fixed her nose—then we heard her story about Kogasa.

But Yukari…

I sigh, reaching the path to the Hakurei Shrine and taking a moment to appreciate the fruits of one week of work. It's not much, and with the limited time I have to be here, progress is akin to a snail's pace—but even a snail is bound to reach its goal if it keeps moving forward—though it surprises me the sight of the Miko on the porch, broom in hand and cleaning the entrance of the place. Her eyes, always haunted, look a tad more adrift today, and her movements are mechanical.

I approach, and her eyes don't leave the task even when I'm by her side. "Reimu?" She jolts, turning and wincing back as if she wasn't once one of the most powerful of this land.

She stares and, slowly, her eyes soften. "You…"

"Me. Were you expecting someone else?" I look around at the cleaned Torii gate. "And you started without me."

Reimu didn't respond immediately, grasping the broom and gathering the dust in the dustpan. "Just wanted to get my head out of something…" Her gaze goes to the bags I brought, and her face contorts. "I'm not hungry—put that in the fridge."

"The shrine still has power?"

Her lips move as if ready to attack, even with no provocation—whatever happened, affected her…—, but she stops herself midway through the first word. I stare, expecting the worst… Reimu huffs. "Yes. Yes, it has… Thanks for the food." And turns to empty the dustpan into a trash bag. I don't avert my gaze from her back, and the passing thoughts make me consider her healthier frame.

Starvation, humiliation, loneliness, aging, and weakness…

Yukari's plan was really the last straw for all of it to crumble over her, wasn't it? A bleak side of my mind still claims it's deserved: Reimu made her choices and never pulled the punches; it's just fair her own poison corrodes her too…

Yet, that other side of my mind, the one riddled with guilt for a past I can't change, whispers on and on about avoidable tragedies.

It's frustrating.

As I make my way inside—the floor dusted, curtains cleaned, and a strong scent of antiseptic in the air—I wonder what side others in my circumstance would listen to. A more cold yet logical approach, or one that is softer and mother-like? That night after the storm, Yukari's reaction to the bakeneko ignoring her comes to mind: she looked at Chen with scorn, the type reserved for betrayal—and it was rage-inducing, to the point I almost lashed out right then and there. How dare she?!

… But then I saw a tinge of heartbreak before Yukari left without a word.

The question of one side or the other shows its true face, as Yukari did: nothing but a trap. Facade. But in the question's case, it hides failure.

I return outside after preparing some tea and encounter Reimu pruning the low-hanging overgrowth, focused yet still adrift. "Hey—you look like you need a pause." I show her the tea. She seemed ready to deny it, but a gust of cold air blew through, and she flinched.

I giggled when she glanced over the tea with barely contained need.

We sat on the stairs by the donation box, the hot tea giving the Miko's skin a nice rosy hue—despite that tense look. "Who visited?" She gives me a side-eye. "You look on the verge of a panic attack, and that reaction when I arrived…"

In her face, I could distinguish a 'none of your business' in the making, yet she recedes, looking at the torii gate ahead. "… Junko, the goddess."

Oh…

Reimu nods. "She just appeared out of nowhere, spewed some cryptic, veiled threats, and said that, when the time comes, I have to put Anon and Hana's will above mine…" She frowned—that must've kept her awake the entire night. "I, just… What did I do wrong? Why is the goddess that started a war on the moon giving me… Marital and motherhood lectures? I'm not a terrible person; all I did was—" I wonder how many times she asked herself that question, the answers that never came—or maybe the not satisfactory answers that she must've judged being 'not hers'.

Her hunt for affirmative words, of Yukari for never stepping in... I felt rage over all that. And, of course, I felt rage at myself; "Reimu." I cut her. "Compared to the pain I've caused in a thousand years, you might as well be a saint—but you're not one. We're monsters. Nothing will change the things we've done; only move forward and attempt to change, be better. That's why I became a shikigami—yet, you're still here, in this shrine… Why do you seek reaffirmations and empty words for your sins? Rather, answer this, Reimu: Why have you hurt yourself so much?"