/jp/ - Otaku Culture

>>46771489
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For Patchouli, who was virtually competing with herself, one test was insufficient; each one proceeded without a hitch. Restoring the children to their mothers, testing with larger animals and their offspring, and even transplanting the children to other mothers—though we only tested that once and decided not to try that offense against mother nature again—the battery of tests ended without one big magical explosion or flood of gore.

Patchy didn't seem to be coping very well with that fact, and it all had to do with that powerful book she occasionally summons. Respecting her wishes—and I don’t want that death glare again—I decided not to pry, but man, curiosity is killing me…

Thanking Koa for the tea and whole loaf of pure bread, I began munching for much of Patchy's concern and the succubus' amusement. “Lady Patchouli, staring is rude—pregnant women have cravings…” She offers, the week magician watching with clear judgment as I pour four tablespoons of sugar into my tea. “A-At least is not as bad as the women of Makai…” I awkwardly peered at Koa, who went red in the cheeks. Yeah, I don't want to know whatever the fuck she's talking about.

Exchanging some final words with Patchy, Koa soon saw herself out, the magician draining her tea before addressing me, her eyes keen. “Are you prepared, Marisa?”

We've done a lot of tests; none went wrong…

… But the possibility of something just exploding in the magical world simply because it feels like it is never a round zero. Laughing after swallowing a chunk of the bread, though, I say. “I was born ready, da-ze~!” The forced lie buffets her face and ricochets; something inside stirring… I recall Reimu's face by that pond and I swallow dry, my eyes darting to the jar over the table that we'll use to store my children—one hand caressing my belly. “… It's the safer choice.” Patchy keeps staring in silence. Listening. It urges me like nothing else. “… I'm not as young as I used to be, you know? Even before getting pregnant, I was starting to notice it. I can still fly, fight—act like the badass I am… But my age is catching up: I'm committing mistakes I never did before, my reaction time is not lunatic-tier anymore, and…” I clutch my belly like it will grow legs and run away. “The Winter Solstice m-may be my last battle, so I need to make sure these silly little guys are safe… That's my responsibility as their mother.” My eyes burn, but I remain still; strong. “Can you believe this, Patchy…? Me, becoming a mother! And I, I… Mima doesn't want me fighting in the Solstice. We'd have a nasty fight if she knew that I'm planning to fight anyway… But want to know something-ze? I don't think I care.” It's the hormones of pregnancy. Nothing else explains these tears that strand down my face under the penetrating gaze of Gensokyo's harshest magician: “… Even if I die in the Solstice, I know they'll still have you. I simply do. You'll find a way to bring these kids to life, Patchy, and they'll hear that their short, old and very foolish mother fought bravely for their poor father… They may then hear she was one of Gensokyo's most notorious thieves and that she died with so many regrets… But they'll be proud of their mother nonetheless, won't they? I want them to be proud of me, because then I think that I'll… I’ll finally be proud of myself…” I glance towards the hovering universe brushing against the roof of the Voilé. “Heh, so silly, ain't me-da-ze—?”

“I'm proud of you, Marisa.” Simple words, said with a simple smile.

… Fuck, my bread is all drenched and salty now, and I cannot talk so I shakily nod. It's enough for Patchouli Knowledge.

About thirty minutes later, recovered and feeling much better than ever before, almost light—not really, ouch, ouch… I walk for ten seconds, and my feet are already killing me—we decide it's time to conduct the process, determination placating my frantic heart as I lay on the wooden table and feel my magic humming on my back. Tensed discomfort settled inside my stomach like a frozen boulder, weighing me down and draining my strength… It was crippling anxiety like none I have felt since I was a young girl with flamboyant ideas and odd hair choices, trying my hardest to cast my first ever spell…

… I exchange a glance with Patchiouli and know that nothing is going wrong.

The chance is never zero, but for the people you love—even those you haven't even seen the faces of—you brave those chances.

Somehow, I feel like Patchy understands me perfectly.

Soothing magic soon calms my mind and my eyes wander to the handcrafted universe above me, fluctuating and groaning ever so frequently, such grandiose display way beyond that of an ordinary magician—still, as I watch the lights, my eyes pick up that sigil of gold, white and black Patchy made a while ago, the thing floating around and making connections with its peers…

I smile for whatever reason, arms clutching my belly as darkness welcomes me.

It’s nice not being alone, isn’t it~?