/jp/ - Otaku Culture

>>46723611
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It's been a while since I've heard of Miko; the last time was during that visit to that weird Mausoleum on Youkai Mountain, but I remember she's trying to attain immortality too. What does she even want from us…?

Keine reads that on my face and kneels—the black cloak makes her look the size of a child. Cute~—, those eyes on the Hieda State still. “I don't quite grasp it, not with just a short meeting, but she wants to see the revolution end well and so get a foothold in the village… She said some things, too.” Her face twists to thoughtful pondering, the sight burning ten desires to punch that saint in the mouth. “Heh, don't misunderstand it, Mokou; she didn't say anything hurtful, only truths that escaped me… Ah, it doesn't matter for now, but know she's a constant and is not to be harmed or trifled with.” As if more than a handful could do so to that hermit. The way she spoke tells me our allies already know it which should boost morale to even greater heights; though not as well-known, that’s still a religious icon siding with us… Not that it matters much in a place like Gensokyo. “… All help feels like good help these days, even from people with ulterior motives I don't fully grasp…” Her lips purse as her eyes narrow and lock on Sanae Kochiya—mild expressions I would only notice during restless nights when the weight of life and expectations felt like too much.

Just like those nights, I let my hand fall to her hair and gently brushed it. Keine smiles ever so slightly more. “Hey, Suzu vowed for Sanae. She's not fucking with us, that's it—trust Suzu like she trust us… She's the one with a giant heart, after all~”

A moment of silence holds…

Then she huffs, amused, a smile shadowed on her pale face.

It persisted even as we shifted our focus back to the Hieda State and Keine studied every mounted weapon, every soldier gripping at their rifles, and every razor-sharp katana, her blood-red eyes teeming with determination as cold as stone. “There won't be turning back.” She muses to herself. “We're either giving Aki and Mochi a good life on Gensokyo, or… whatever awaits us in the Outside World.” I keep brushing her hair; maybe that is all that keeps her facade intact.

“Shut up, you big liar…” I say, towering over her as I rise from my crouched position, our eyes locking, a huge smile spreading across my face. “… From the moment you picked them up, there was already no turning back~”

A child caught with their hand stuck in the cooking jar—that's how I'd define the smile that takes over her as she rises to my side, wind deciding this is the perfect moment to dramatically blow her velvety ivory hair against the surface of the pitch-black cloak as, firmly, she steps forward, the imagery nigh hypnotic.

A challenge to Mr. Hieda: the demonic mask and kabuto adorned by horns, possibly harvested from a true oni, stare directly at her eyes, a hand threateningly over the handle of the sheathed katana.

Below, the Prismrivers finish their encore.

“… Indeed, there was not.”

The smile hurts, my heart is a furious mess, and I stand tall behind her, unmistakable wings of sheer, cascading fire sprawling from deep within, fiercely hot as the small ember that resides inside her and our friends' hearts—a blessing from me to keep them safeguarded from the threats of today.

Bathed in the reassurance from future Keine that, today, my children won’t be a parent short, I lift a hand to the skies. “Good.”

And, for the second time today, fireworks consume the skies, the culmination of about ~5 hours of a spontaneous festival bustling with exotic sights, foods and entertainment; of memories that'll never fade and connections that, as of one year ago, were thought impossible; of a Gensokyo that’s about to change.

Yesterday is past; tomorrow is a series of heart-throbbing results that just thinking about makes me want to faint… And today…

Today, we write history.

Against the cloud of fireworks, Keine floats towards the Hieda State, the Prismriver’s concert ending with the breathtaking sight of thousands of fireworks making the gleam in the people's eyes down below that much more tasteful. Hopes for the future; skepticism thoroughly challenged by these last five hours; and curiosity that reaches the stars. They cheer, whistle, boo, give words of encouragement or just 'EAT HIS FUCKING LIVER!!'—the Kurodanis can be especially feisty sometimes, especially the red-headed ones… weird genetics—and some Youkai even shot multicolored Danmaku to the skies, Hieda's soldiers huddling closer to their weapons as if their lives hinged on them.

Mr. Hieda doesn't even flinch…

… Not even when I and Keine landed on the fence, Keine stepping down to stand in front of him as I stood on the handrail, Sanae was to the old man’s side, arms crossed and tense. Immediately, a bunch of weapons are pointed at us.

Keine doesn't even flinch.

“Hieda-sama.”

“Keine Kamishirasawa.”

… Without the need for words, they bowed down to one another.