/jp/ - Otaku Culture

>>44944278
(2/6)
—
I assumed she entered the cave to run away from the rain just like me, and when she sat down and closed her eyes, I saw the opportunity. 'Twas dark, and the storm muffled my footsteps. It was the perfect setup for the perfect scare!

I 'boo'ed her, expecting a screech and—

The kid turned to me, and from this close I could see her nose broken and a massive cut on her forehead; clothes muddled and torn; a general tiredness pulling her down like gravity. Her eyes were reddened by cascading blood and past tears—she was quivering.

And now, also crying. I wanted to cry out of shame, but I was busy panicking.

"W-Wait, you weren't supposed to c-cry—that doesn't even matter! Why are you hurt and, w-wha—" My years of babysitting rush to the forefront, restarting my brain and forcing me to act. I suck up the words and, leaving my umbrella to the side—a slit of magic connecting us—I get close and diagnose her injuries—oh, she's a bakeneko!—; gladly, most are superficial, like the scrapped knees and bruised lip, but the broken nose and cut on the forehead are another story. "Shh, shh, calm, calm—I'll help you, okay? Sorry for… scaring you." I try soothing her, gently patting her head and cleaning the mud from her scalp.

It doesn't help much, but the crying decreases by a fraction. I keep talking, retracting my hands to rip the edges of my skirt. "My name is Kogasa Tatara; what's yours?"

"… C-Che—C—Ch-en…"

"Chen? Beautiful name, Chen—can you concentrate on my voice? You like my voice, right? Lots of kids tell me it's lovely—what do you think?" Firmly, I strap the fabric around her head, pressuring the wound shut. It'll still bleed, but not nearly as much as before. Chen's crying is dying out, as is her strength.

"I want… Ran, Mr. Anon…"

"Who are those, your parents?" She just nods, her eyes a bit distant. "I'd like to know them—you love them?" She doesn't hesitate and nods again, a sweet, tiny smile on her face, and, with the sounds of my voice and the storm outside, her shaking slowly stops, tears halting, and—wow, she passed out on my lap…

I steady the makeshift bandage on her head, satisfied with the grip—and check just once more to see if I missed any wound—then, with a wide and lengthy sigh, I let my body relax. It was so fast—not even five minutes—yet I was on edge the entire time… Gee. I gaze at the sleeping beauty on my lap, smile fondly despite the weirdness of the situation, and pet her head and ears, her tails bobbing lazily.

How did this girl get into this situation? Someone attacked her? Are her parents well? I look outside and huff: the intense rain is making sure the entirety of Gensokyo knows it won't go away soon.

It's hard to contain my smile, though. Terrible babysitter? I wanna see a dumdum human do as fine as I did just now!…

… They probably would; the harsh truth comes with a bitter taste. There's nothing I can do about her nose, nor can I warm her body up in any way: I doubt I'd find proper firewood with this storm outside, and my cold, ghostly body doesn't produce heat—

Realization strikes, a creeping feeling of powerlessness washing over me as Chen starts to tremble, shrinking to preserve as much warmth as possible.

What should I do? What should I do…?

With no immediate better idea, I pull my umbrella and cover us two from the strong wind current; then I pull Chen out of the cold ground and lay her entirely on my not nearly as cold lap, carefully producing a small ball of danmaku and… just holding it there. I've never done this before. Danmaku is always thrown, so to hold it in place instead of moving or flinging it around is—OH! Careful, you idiot! You almost let it slip! And it'd have hit Chen, too!

I bite my lip, my eyes narrowing and glistening, but I keep my focus. A human would be much better here; their bodies are warm, and they'd find creative ways to produce heat and cure Chen's wounds…

I struggle to hold the danmaku ball still; the temperature barely rises.

Chen's tails move, and, despite my wavering focus to keep the danmaku static and the salt in my eyes, I see it—more, feel it—: her tails, as if searching for someone, lock around my wrist, her grasp feeble. She probably was looking for someone else…

… But there was no one else here but me. No one else to help this little girl but me.

Breathing deeply and centering my heartbeat I focus again on the danmaku ball, using the frail grasping as catalyst. It's still tough and quickly wears down my mind, but I keep going nevertheless despite the effort. The ball grows exponentially, and so does the warmth inside the umbrella, and—

She… stops trembling. Her body is slowly regaining its natural color, and the strength of her grip grows. I have to gulp the undefined guttural feeling that takes over my throat, ignoring the few tears of relief coming from the sides and the smile spreading my face, feeling a boost of energy surging through my ghostly body.

Rare are the times I feel this alive and needed.