/jp/ - Otaku Culture

>>45668910
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Rage inside builds like the Tower of Babel, piercing heaven—or so Ran told me—, my eyes on Yukari's like solar flares. She holds Hana tightly, as if a prize, and Aya's words echo inside my skull as if carved there, lighting my body afire with motivation.

The Gohei is in my right hand and shines a heavenly blue as I take a step forward, Yukari takes an unconscious step back…

The fury is infinite, and it could be unleashed upon the Gap Sage right now.

… Hana…

Images of a baby—a sweet baby with hair like mine, eyes of her father. In my arms, so tiny and exigent of protection…

For once, I'd like to hold her like that again.

—

Reimu. What the hell is Reimu doing here?! Questions flooded like a broken dam, and my mind struggled to organize the information, a surge of confusion washing over me. Why didn't I feel her getting close?! I'd have! She can't use Gaps, I made sure of that; Kasen wouldn't dare go to the Hakurei miko; and—

… Okina.

I resist the compulsion to grit my teeth, facing Reimu in the eyes. Not all is lost. This is sudden, yet not out of my depth. Years upon years of defeat and self-destruction have made her an embodied cautionary tale; whatever she has to say or do won't change the fact that I have already won. Okina might think this is a triumph, but I know better! I can see in her eyes the utter anger begging to be unleashed, and it will, because Reimu Hakurei is nothing but a freak! A monster that cannot control her own whims! Compared to me, she is—

Reimu moves so fast it's mere reflex that saves me—the Gohei in her hand and her eyes of pure iron, a Gap opening with the incoming attack—

—She passes through my Gap as if immaterial and is behind me in no longer than a moment…

Pain never came.

She floated. This disgraced, drunkard and self-destructive woman… Despite all that rage that painted her complexion like muck, she floated.

My chest swelled, and the rush of fear that took over me was very much real… Feeling an emptiness in my arms, I refused to look down, calmly recomposing the absolute annoyance that took over my face, easily hiding the little tremble of my arms that, slowly, went to my sides.

This is just a minor setback. I'll solve things, put them back in order. This means nothing—nothing!

Such words echoed inside my head like the buzz of static.

—

So, I do it.

Hana in my arms is a bit heavier than what I remember; taller, too—about an extra 5 feet? Heh…—, yet, she looks just as fragile as 17 years ago, shaking like an ofuda against the mightiness of stormy winds, sobbing, deaf to the world around her, cocooning herself so as not to feel pain anymore. I want to cry. My little girl that bravely went against her crazy mother and took the reins of her life, having to bear the weight of another monster taking advantage of her; the fury burns like a thousand suns… But this isn't about me, so I gulp down the tears as I see her squirming stop, confused with the change of grasp and movement, my heart beating on top of my throat, fear taking over, and—

—numb eyes stare at me, puzzled by the woman holding her. Like all those years ago when I first held her, I freeze… Hana Hakurei is her name. My daughter.

The daughter I failed.

I don't speak, though there's much I'd like to say. I look at her with reverence, a love profound and pulsating, and my body warms up with good memories, yet I do not demand reciprocity—if she knows it exists, that she can seek it at any time… Then it’s enough.

Her precious eyes remain bewildered, nebulous, as if she had just woken up from a deep slumber and didn't know how to react. I walk forward, keeping eye contact, my body strained. Yukari was staring at my back, exuding a miasma of death… My back is all that she'll see—this wasted life, this decaying body.

This wall.

I stop in front of Marisa, her eyes on mine of emotions impossible to discern, hair all disheveled and a protruding baby bump. She sees me staring, moves her mouth, but words don't come… I look at Hana, and there's an infeasible fright in her eyes. She denies with her head in a silent plea, her body trembling. I looked at the disgusting Yakumo uniform… Then I gave my Hana a soft smile, one that said, 'Be brave'.

As Marisa begins to weep, I tenderly lay my Hana on her arms. She fumbles in surprise, wide-eyed and mumbling a shaky 'bwuh?!', just like 17 years ago, and I smile ever so slightly, taking a step back to look at my Hana in her arms; the others watch with mixes of sheer hope and disarray…

It doesn't take long for the mess of a witch to fall on her knees, embracing Hana as if her own daughter, ululating apologies.

I give another step back, this one with a shaking to it, and watch as the women flock to Hana, despair and worry on their faces, hugging her with thick tears and whispering words of comfort, kisses on her skin and huffs of relief. Still, Hana's wide eyes are on me, the situation finally dawning on her: Despite everything, they still love her a lot.