/jp/ - Otaku Culture

>>46717588


I felt relief flood my body as Sanae walked away. Sanae was a friend, I trusted her. To give her just a little push in the right direction was all I could do, but to know she was mulling over her allegiance to Mr. Hieda was enough. If she withdrew, then there would only the small army of men armed with guns, and bombs, and blades to deal with. Not exactly ideal, especially when there are so many innocents milling about, but they had nothing that could put down Mokou. It also meant that for leadership his men only had a delusional old man to look up to, hardly the sort of leadership that would convince a man to gun down his friends and family and get melted by an angry immortal. Maybe if it was the Mr Hieda of the past instead of the pale shadow he was now he could do it, if all those stories he or Akyuu told me were true. But he had to be exaggerating, all those old stories of him slaying youkai in personal combat just false, stories to make him look important.

With no customers currently, I have time to send off my message. Picking up a pen and some paper, I wrote down my thoughts. I hadn’t fully convinced her, but she wasn’t likely to raise a hand against us. I could just hope things went over well. If everything was smoothed over now, then there would be less friction when it came time to end the HSE. As I look over what I’ve written, I decide to add in another message to Mokou. For someone so old, she could be very immature. Who just comments about someone’s bust like that? I’m not even that big!

I let the paper slip out of my hand, where it floats down then picks up speed, drifting up and away over the heads of the crowd. But unlike a piece of trash in the wind, this had a purpose, a target. It flew up, against gravity and the wind to about where Mokou stood overhead. It’s amazing what a bit of magic could do. When Keine had pulled me aside a while back and asked if I could learn how to do this, I had doubts. To learn magic in such a short time seemed impossible, but with her guidance I had managed to . Maybe it was an extension of my powers. I had spent so much time around Youma books that I knew that pouring intention into writing could be a powerful thing. Letters written from someone long deceased, cursed magical tomes, and scrolls meant to seal in powerful spirits. No matter if it was written by an average person or a someone skilled in the magic arts, a text could gain a life of its own depending on how you wrote it. So being able to make a message do something as simple as head towards the recipient was just another use of my ability. Or I think so.

I gaze up at Mokou, making sure to huff so she gets the message. I see her laugh and look back. Guess she got it.

Turning my attention back to the stand, I feel a pit in my stomach. For once, there was another culprit to this familiar feeling. I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. Closing the curtains and flipping the sign to ‘Closed’, I make sure everything is in order before I set off to get something to eat.

Things were definitely on a roll now. The streets were packed, and it seemed like every stall I passed was busy serving customers. Youkai openly walked the streets alongside humans without seemingly a care between any of them. At this point, it was just a normal everyday festival, all fears and worries about the revolution forgotten.

I weave my way through the crowd, making my way closer to the stage. The crowd was much thicker here, all of them watching the show. From what I could see through the crowd, the Prismrivers were being quite showy, twirling the instruments around as they still played.


I squeezed my way past to Mystia’s Izakaya. Mystia and that man that was always around her-I should really catch his name one of these days- were working together so well that one could assume they’ve known each other for years, but the line was still hard for them to beat back. But eventually, my turn comes up.

“Oh, Kosuzu, what will it be?” the man says with a large smile on his face, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

“I’ll just have the lamprey” I say, sliding the coins across the counter.

“We’ll have it right out” he says as he writes down the order and takes the coin. Mystia gets to work, looking so focused as she cooks the meat, taking a bowl of spices her partner just finished preparing to season it. With how skillfully they work, the skewer is soon in my hands, and I leave the counter so the next in line can take my place. I take a bite as I scan for somewhere to sit down. Delicious as always.