/jp/ - Otaku Culture

>>46219868

Ghosts fluttered around the girl huddled up under a mass of blankets as she kept the chills away with spirits of her own. Warm memories of a hot meal dampened only slightly by the company had, a hot bath that revitalized the soul and body, and the promise that by lunch time tomorrow she’d be able to leave this place and stretch her legs again. It was maddening not being able to check up on that, quite literally, divine peony Yuuka gifted her with a smile and show, nor see how those closest to the bundled miko had been faring.

Stuffed into her juban and resting in the little pocket of warmth Hana Hakurei stirred, and along with the little whispers of cold in that leaked through the edges of the blankets, a dread seemed to seep into her spirit. It was a strange thing, she decided as she fluffed her pillow and tucked her arm under her cheek, didn’t she get what she wanted? Didn’t the universe itself seem to bend over backwards to keep her sins firmly buried in the shadow? Even mother is dead set on removing herself from the picture in order to save Kasen-nee’s family… That’s a good thing, isn’t it? The death of her mother was something she’d dreamed about since she was a brat freshly departed from Keine’s lectures, and the gray days after whispered rumor and printed truth isolated her from her peers and friends entirely.

Her mother was going to die… That was the single fate that would befall her if she kept her course, that Reimu, her mother… Her mother, that indomitable women and loathsome tyrant whose downfall she should rightfully cheer on with all the fervor of a Kasha at a mass grave.

The flashes of memories from what seemed like a lifetime ago, most all dark and drunken, solidified her justification that her mother dying should be a good thing. It was just fact, Hana wasn’t Buddahist or anything but it was just common sense that sins are borne from desires and karma is gained and lost at your actions. Everyone knew thanks to that green-haired busybody that only good can wash away the bad.

Across all instances of karmatic justice Reimu Hakurei deserved to die, and she deserved to suffer for what crimes she did to those she should’ve loved the most. Her mother was a human after all… It was normal for a human to have a bad fate befall them for doing such terrible things, after all; but, if that was the case, why couldn’t she gather the energy to celebrate? Why did she have such trouble finding the words to broach any meaningful subject over this evening? After they got back to the shrine from Mayohiga, leaving those troublesome, yet strangely affectionate youkai behind, Hana had plenty of time to speak to her contrastingly easy-going mother on the matter further.

Maybe she would’ve been able to muster the courage, but the determination on her mother’s face as she announced it, the flame and loving warmth of her furious wings as she declared her determination, how she was so easily able to be the rock in the center of a storm of beings beyond what any mortal could hope to match… It was the ideal that Hana realized she had to reach long ago if she was to be free of that very same power.

When they landed in the courtyard of the silent shrine, with the cold air snatching the loose hair from their shoulders. The young and shaky miko had wanted to ask her oppressor and mother why she would do such a thing, she wanted to shout and kick up a fuss like last time about not needing her protection. Hana had wanted to shout that she didn’t need to be coddled, that she could find her own path in safeguarding her future and her fathers! However, when the smell of that familiar mix of forest and mountain air hit Hana’s nose she noticed the look at her mother’s face. It was a mask of neutrality and stoic determination covering a longing as intense as the noontime sun.

There was something about the way the light hit her mother’s comely face, how the orange beams of the evening sun radiated from her shining cheeks like the fire she commanded. The crimson of her families’ uniform only intensified the reddened glow from her skin, it was like her aura leaked into plain sight without restraint. It was almost awe inspiring, and it was almost enough to make Hana forget who her mother had been to her not a couple days ago; yet it wasn’t enough.

>>45936797

Hana was hesitant at ripping the paper at first, it seemed to be wrapped from one of those stores and must have cost a pretty penny or two given the quality of the paper and bow. A bit of a game was played as Hana made the sacrifice of the warmth of her fingers. Braving the cold she took off her mittens to manipulate the lightly glued wrapping with dexterity. It was only a few places on the ends where it had that bit of wax, but taking it apart without ripping it was an art in of itself. Her fingernails dug into the paper and with satisfaction she opened the paper folds without incident. She repeated the simple motions of digging in and unfolding until, almost without incident, she was able to take apart the present without ripping the paper too deeply. Underneath the decorations sat a simple and small cardboard box with slightly crimpled corners.

Her fingernails quickly found purchase in the folds of the box and opened the container with blazing curiosity. The lid flipped and sitting there, still tightly folded in on itself to display the simple red and white four-leaf clover embroidered into the material, was a delicate ascot. The material making up the cloth was fine, the sewing itself seemed to radiate a certain ease that seemed warm and nostalgic.

Hana couldn’t place a finger on the strange feeling until she unfolded the cloth itself letting out a small folded card that seemed to be tucked away into the folds. The cloth unfolded further and she admired the way the pattern seemed to wave a bit as if swirling into something bigger. As Hana followed the lines it hit her, it must have been father’s handiwork! However, something struck her as a thought came to the forefront: If it was her father’s gift it would’ve been with the letter or at least mentioned in there?

If it wasn’t her fathers than whose? No one else she knew used that distinctive pattern, not even herself. Hana was unable to figure it out; Marisa could sew, but knitting like this was a different story. Yuuka might be able too, though none of the clothes she’d ever worn had such iconic stitchwork and besides, she just didn’t see her as the type that would devote herself to something so domestic. Alice could’ve pulled it off of course, but she had her own style and would’ve mentioned it or presented it with the letter. Sanae could’ve, but she doubted she did much knitting herself.

Breathing in the slightly dusty air through her mouth, letting the cold air chill her lungs, and sighing out warm breath Hana picked up the envelope that fell out hoping that it was more than simple cardstock to wrap the cloth around. She quickly spotted the writing on the tan colored and coarse paper that immediately caught her off guard, it was her mother’s handwriting!

A slight sense of dread overcame Hana, when did her mother learn to knit like this? She had always been terrible at it and even when she applied herself the quality was shoddy at best. Still, Hana brought the letter out into the open and it read on the outside ‘To my daughter, Hana’. Gulping, Hana opened the card up and in ink it read: “I will always cherish your smile”

Another tediously small update for now, we're almost at the end of the party proper. I just gave some space for anyone else to write in their own character interactions and tried keeping the attendees at this juncture vague enough
If someone wants to handle the warplans part of things or add on before the party is fully over be my guest, I was planning for one of the jobbers to recommend Hana spend the night with Reimu at her shrine in order to shoehorn a 'mu/'ana talk or at least establish how the jobbers are going to wing it so Hana doesn't get GAPPED again. That can wait though and as always, feel free to use Hana for whatever purposes you please.
Yukari is going to be a relentless hound in the coming days before solstice proper and I fully encourage other anon's to write ways to cockblock Yukari in their POVs, especially the guy thats gonna write the warplans. I'll write around whatever. Or don't and let the suffering be complete... No way for me to tell which way the water will flow until I get finger to keyboard