/jp/ - Otaku Culture

>>46520928
—
It wouldn't be the first time, though it may be the last, should I not see them in my dreams tonight… Hmpf, who am I kidding? I savor the flash of memory as I watch my wife disciplining our ‘too curious for her own sake’ Akyuu—their beauties unparalleled—who, in her infinite thirst for knowledge, tried swinging papa's sword around and almost cut her hand off…

I blink again, and Sanae stares at me while holding my sword; the other girl is at a loss, gawking at her chipped gohei.

The enthusiastic apprentices left after realizing the duel was over, chatting among themselves; the servants hurried back to their duties; and my samurai concluded that a round of heavy drinking would be the ideal way to celebrate their leader's ‘victory’. There's no point in correcting them, but this is no victory—an old man beats a child in a game he has played for far too long, so what? If only he could beat a lying teacher too, or a Youkai of Gaps…

If only he could beat every threat that knocks on our doors…

… Or what took you from me…

You feel embarrassed, don't you, Akyuu?

This old man bringing wide-eyed children to his war, proclaiming it is to keep ours safe from the words of that woman who dares suggest you'd be against your father…

… That immortal's flames. She'll scorch our legacy to ashes.

You wouldn't, right, Akyuu? Your mother already left me, then you too—but you didn't really, right? You wouldn’t care about the rules of being a 'Children of Miare'; you’re a Hieda first!

You'd go above and beyond to return home.

Someday, you’ll return to me.

Ignoring everything, I take my sword from Sanae's hands, bow down to the goddess and sheathe the blade. “Thank you for giving this man the time to teach you, and I hope our spar serves as a lesson to you, Shojo. When I was your age, it did for me.” And, bowing a second time now to the wide-eyed girl, I leave the shallow pond, quickly joined by my samurai on the way back inside. Everything is following accordingly—a well-oiled machine of war—and I must rest for tomorrow…

Sanae stays behind to soothe her shaken apprentice; her concern for her maidens is a lovely sight. Among the expectant looks of my servants and samurai, some thirsty and praying for the war to come, others trying their best to hide fear and, in the case of the clan councilors, greed to see me out or even profit from the war, my mind wanders to the man who, minutes ago, I helped in taking his own life on top of the same floor Akyuu would often lie on and write, too focused to seek a more comfortable seat. I speak to them all but find it hard to precisely remember my exact words, mind numb and tired as I finally get to my office, alone and in solitude; yet, I cannot feel alone in this place.

Haikus and written works, poems and complete novels scattered throughout, papers I frequently reviewed for Akyuu, or simple stories we’d write together—everything neatly arranged, something that you rubbed onto me.

I gently kneel on the cushion by my desk—sword placed on the floor by me—and ignore letters from Yukari's department about nigh-infinite matters regarding her up-coming 'Winter Festival'; torn papers of Tengu lies and slander; and, finally, a copy of Keine's letter. They jest and mock, laughing at just how easily they chokehold our village, turn us against one another—Kosuzu, your sister in everything but blood, staring at me with such contempt, spite, and… pity—, and then prey on us. Unsatisfied, now they want to integrate into our society merely because they tasted that man in Yukari's abomination, believing them and whatever atrocities they produce to bear the same sanctity as that of the human soul.

If your father could, my dear Akyuu, I'd slaughter all of them, down to the last creature of sin. I'd hang the monsters by spears, bathe in their warm blood, cut off their heads and burn everything our beautiful family heirloom’s edge can reach…

And, hearing the faint preparations outside, maybe I should.

Tomorrow I die or, like our ancestors, quench a rebellion—but that won't be enough, right, Akyuu?

Youkai'll return; they always do. With new tricks, new plans.

New ways to destroy what we love.

They did it after those hellish five years in which I battled every day.

… But they only returned because we had grown complacent with a new Hakurei miko taking charge of the Youkai problem; they were free to act as they pleased outside our walls and weren't met with swift aggression.

All to keep the false pretense of 'balance'.

What would've happened if I had continued fighting? Would I be dead…? Or would Gensokyo be a different place now?

Perhaps Keine Kamishirasawa is somewhat right: things need to change.

She wants to welcome beasts into our home.

I place my hand on top of our sword, those snarling voices fading into oblivion.

Peace in wrath.

… My Akyuu, If I live past tomorrow, be assured: Your father will show Gensokyo again why the Hieda Clan—humans—do not kneel down to Youkai.