/jp/ - Otaku Culture

>>45387880 (20/-)
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Suzu has been an angel in my life, one I don't deserve—she has her life to take care of; piling my responsibilities on her shoulders is cruel—but one I won't turn away from. Feels nice too to be on the other side of a lecture, and trial and error with these two bundles of joy has been… something. Who'd have thought making clothes for winged babies was so hard? At least Suzu seemed to enjoy it. Though I can't keep taking so much—her time, presence, knowledge, charity—and not giving back.

Breathing in and out, I scan if I'm far away enough from the village… Yeah, seems safe. Gently I descend, landing by the shore of a river that crosses the Forest of Magic, humming a cute lullaby as I place down my backpack and pull out the 'lid', giggling when I'm welcomed with a yawn. "Sorry, Kuramochi—should've expected night sparrows like you and your sister would enjoy a peaceful flight…" I poke his nose, the mumbling making his sister roll over, trying to use her small wings to cover herself from the sunlight. "… And sorry to you too, Aki. Didn't mean to disturb~"

As I talk to them, I carry the backpack to a nearby tree, cleaning the area before leaning it on the bark. Pulling my scroll, I raise a magic circle of protection around them—would've been useful during that night, but the ten-second cast is not ideal…—making sure they're warm and comfortable.

"Sorry again—last time, I swear—for not getting Aunt Suzu to take care of you; we don't want to be a burden on her, right…?" My hand caresses their faces, my slight smile dying a bit as Aki's soft and tiny fingers envelop my index. "Was I egotistical…?" I ask no one in particular, shoulders down. Saving them was a thing, but then adopting them? Without a job, funds rapidly drying—I frantically swing my head, giving small slaps on each side of my face.

It's not time for that!

… It's time to make money.

Mother Nature gives and takes: farming is impossible so late in autumn; foraging is possible but too risky—I can't even fathom what would be of me if I'd to sell something poisonous…—; I'm a terrible hunter, too: one day to catch a malnourished rabbit is bad. Really bad.Winged-game has already migrated also and is nigh impossible to find reliably.

Which leaves me with one good option: fishing.

Of course, many think like me and a lot are great fishers; hogging all the best spots, equipment is also far too pricey, just as I don't have any skill in fishing. One entire day of normal fishing got me less than hunting, and exploding the water with Danmaku burned the fish to a crisp—bad price, but food for us, at least…

… So, I strip my heavy clothes.

The frostbite chills my skin and my body jolts, but I go on anyway. I won't turn to crime, I won't use my powers irresponsibly—I won't taint these babies lives with such marks of shame—, I won't be a burden to one of my best friends and I won't let this world destroy my life. I'll retake all of it, change things… And I'll do it right.

My heart pounds as I place the heavy clothes around the babies, creating another layer of warmth. The circle will resist and keep them warm and safe—and if something threatens them, I'll have enough time to return and defend them.

I look at them again, my smile tender, and brush my fingers against their cheeks…

… Hope to never give up. Responsibility to keep moving forward.

Breathing in and out deeply, I get up and—trembling—move towards the raging shore of the river, a basket in my left hand. Gravel hurts the sole of my feet; hair in a massive ponytail; breasts bandaged and shorts to keep my decency. The cold and wind are harsh against my skin, even after I create a pellet of danmaku inside my stomach to warm the inside of my body.

… I glanced at the babies one last time, held my breath… and jumped into the raging, freezing river without hesitation.

It's like hell.

My body temperature goes crashing down, and I'm certain I'd be dead in seconds if not for the ball of danmaku inside me, even so humane panic installs and my brain tries to trick me into going back to the surface, scrapping my leg on a sharp rock amidst the confusion, blood tainting the water… Yet, as a melodic crying echoes in my head, hands clench, and I struggle to ignore every wordily pain, gulping buckets of desperation, heart on fire with a strong desire, finally recomposing myself enough as to swiftly swim to the bottom of the freezing river, magical senses stretched thin and—there! Fast and at my absolute limit, I swim towards the shoals and catch what I can with my basket before they desperately swim away.

Mother Nature gives and takes…

I stay two minutes there before resurfacing, gasping for air, body chilled all over, eyes wide with tears welled there. Having a hard time controlling my limbs, I look inside the basket, feeling terrible: thirty plus fat, glimmering fish, looking healthy as horses and, certainly, with a nice price tag to them. I grin through the suffering

… Time to fucking take.