/jp/ - Otaku Culture

>>46520923
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I remember one of your haikus, Akyuu. It sang about the perseverance of a rock lodged in the middle of a raging river: assailed its entire life and unable to strike back, left to rot in the face of water’s onslaught. Yet the rock remained there, resisting despite the unfortunate nature of its situation. You beamed as I spoke of the beauty such sentiment carried… But never did I tell you about how that haiku personally resonated with me.

Tonight, I will give you a mere taste, my daughter—tomorrow, when the beasts come to destroy all we love, I'll show you the entire picture.

“A s-spar? Hieda-sama, please, there's nothing you need to prove here!” Sanae tries, pinching the bridge of her nose, but I promptly ignore her, eyes on the girl who'd said all those words, her stare one of confusion yet curiosity—eyes like that of my Akyuu—, eyes turning to Sanae as she babbles on. “Sayori just likes to speak her mind; we don't need you to run the risk of getting hurt in a silly spar or something—” Interesting. A younger Sanae three decades ago would've readily accepted the spar simply because it'd be… 'cool' to see a duel.

Maturation comes to all.

You could've been as tall as her now, my Akyuu; had children, too—gave me so many grandchildren—like that traitor, Kosuzu…

… I pull out the Hieda katana, calmly positioning myself with my ankles underwater, paper lanterns floating carelessly, unaware of what's soon to ensue. “Nurture such traits then and let the girl not only speak her mind but also take on her own actions, Sanae-san!” Curious gazes turn to us as I speak, my eyes moving back to the girl, clearly unsure whether she should or not step forward. “Hesitation is defeat, Shojo! Keine Kamishirasawa and Fujiwara no Mokou will not hesitate tomorrow!” Her body jolts with my yells, and, by now, samurai, servants, and apprentices are watching, young shrine maidens giggling and speaking amongst themselves.

“B-But, Hieda-sama, you're old—you'll get hurt!” The girl tries.

It's time for my samurai to thunder their laughter, scaring the poor girl. Sanae has just facepalmed out of embarrassment. I ignore them, focusing on the girl. “Does my old age change the fact that I hold this weapon?” She doesn't answer; perhaps she cannot. “… Step forward, Shojo. None of us will leave hurt.”

For one last time, she stares at Sanae, who, sighing, whispers something to her. The girl nods several times and, tense as a rod, steps into the water, her one-leafed gohei in hands—only a fool would perceive it as an unfair match against the steel of my sword—and begins to talk, albeit with a bit of trembling to it: “I-I won't be flying nor using d-danmaku to spar with you, Hieda-sama…” She lifts her eyes—

—And her voice freezes inside her throat, those childish eyes bulging and her body numbing. The world around us is cloaked in odd silence, people's eyes and words forgotten; not even the water rippling at our ankles is felt. I emptied my lungs, holding the katana firmly above my head like the horn of an oni, my eyes focused on her and nothing else.

I beg of you to remember well this sensation, Shojo: internalize it and never forget it…

The wind chimes gently.

… That's how it feels to face someone who wants to kill you.

The stance is one of nightmares, bred during the bloodiest time of my clan's history and passed down as a tool to hunt Youkais before Gensokyo even came to be and the Hakurei Miko was needed. A stance I used when Reimu’s mother, Minako, passed away, leaving Gensokyo undefended for a period of five years…

Five long years of massacre, forgotten three decades later by those that remained comfortably inside the village's walls…

Tomorrow, they'll remember why the Human Village—the Hieda Clan—doesn't kneel to Youkai.

Fear paralyzing her, she could barely react as the water splashed and floating lanterns were displaced, clumsily moving her gohei to defend against a crescent slash from above, her body almost buckling at the sheer strength behind the attack, her hubris making her believe this old, tired body could not overpower hers, forcing her to struggle to react to the second movement, which was an inverted repetition of the first, the sacred wood of her gohei locking the katana as it gnawed the wood, holding onto it like a fishing hook—

—Rather than tugging, I threw the sword forward and released it, causing the girl to be violently propelled onto the water by inertia. As our eyes met again, all she saw was the barrel of my revolver.

Breaths were released.

“… Unlike a danmaku duel, all a human needs is one breach, one chance—one moment to kill.” I tucked the revolver back into my obi as the girl slowly got up, speechless, gawking at her gohei in the water and the sword dug into it.

“Han—g-gah, Sayori! Are you okay?!” Sanae barreled to us in record time, stressed out of her mind about the girl's well-being—so much so that one’d think she was her daughter…

I blinked, and Akyuu and her mother were there.