Warning: this topic has not been posted in for at least 14 days.
Unless you're sure you want to reply, please consider starting a new topic.
Combo x2! This still isn't Midnight March part three.
This new story is based off Mitch Albom's
The Five People You Meet in Heaven, so forgive me if this seems to drag on for too long. So, obligatory disclaimer: I don't own
The Five People You Meet in Heaven or the Touhou Project. They belong to Mitch Albom and ZUN, respectively.
Turning a Blind Eye
The girl sat on the ancient chair, chanting an ancient invocation. Soft words moved past her lips, and her slowly tensing hands squeezed the curved armrests. Her lulled eyes remained closed while she awaited the release from her suffering. Sweat rolled down her head, and her body trembled in an ascending catharsis.
This is a story about a girl who sought respite, and it has perhaps started with the climax. There may be no tension, and perhaps it is undoing the story. But it is a turning point, a crossroad of many futures. There may be four paths, but it is up to us to discern them and decide which one we will take.
An ancient city surrounded her, a reminder of the life she was about to abandon. There was the market on the right, empty of its now sleeping tenants; the Dusk Tavern on her left, glowing in the ambient light of its exterior lantern; and there was the rooftop of old man Shiroi-me, whose white eyes (and third eye, no less) glared into your very soul if you looked long enough into them. In the center, where she currently was, was a former execution stage, stained in the blood of countless accused. Both past and behind her, houses were lined up, their blue ceramic roofs refusing to share in the orange light of the streets. Stray shops for pickaxes, hammers, chisels, and other tools for stonework had signs peeking out from the residential establishments, and even smaller ones advertising the retail of clean drinking water hung from the tips of a few houses.
What about her? She was the second daughter of the ruling family in this underground city, a fact that had more bearing now that her elder sister had taken up the mantle. All her needs were well taken care of, and she didn?t need to lift a finger for them. Her attire befitted a classy girl: a long orange dress shirt, a thin black belt that fastened the extra length of the shirt to her thin body, as well as the green skirt that was the only correctly fitted piece of clothing she had. She wore a black round, wide-brimmed hat. She had long since abandoned her pair of shoes and wore only black socks, whose undersides was filled with pale white streaks that came from rough stone floor.
Her appearance was rather dull, to say the least. Smooth skin that had once seen sunlight was now less lively. While her clothes made her look healthier, in reality, she had a small body. Puberty hadn?t affected her physically- it never did for anyone- so her face?s features were slight and unassuming. No one could quite say that she was an adult; she was prone to childish antics that, fortunately, she could get away with. Her thin extremities bore some marks and grazes from actions not becoming of her position. Her blue third eye, the mark of a satori, was currently closed. Jewelry was not one of her interest, for she wore no earrings or bracelets or necklaces or anything that had jewels.
Unlike her sister, she was free to roam the city and have fun and have fun ?til dinner, when she would go home to eat. Friends were more abundant for her than anyone else, but these friends came and went. Being the only person who met the head of the Komeiji on a daily basis and one of the friendlier ones among the residents of the Palace of the Earth Spirits didn?t help.
Now that one stanza was finished, the most momentous event of her life began to unfold before her, and she relished each feeling she was experiencing. This invocation she was reciting was an unthinkable and irreversible act. A sense of finality washed over her. It would all be over soon, but why wasn?t she happy?
Why was she afraid? The fear of the unknown was one thing, but this was another. Why should this one be any different? This wasn?t embarrassment; no one was here. Everyone was asleep ?tonight? (all they had for reference were hourglasses), and if they weren?t they would be gathering and staring at her. She had seen several others do this in wide ?day?-light, and she could see some of the old ones shaking their heads at them.
Two stanzas passed.
So this is what it feels like to be on a big chair, the girl thought. Her mind travelled back to the throne room of the palace- her palace, too- and imagined the hall room before her. She could imagine the marble lit red by stained glass windows, and that one cracked window that spread its rainbow cobweb light on the left of the room. She asked Satori when it was going to be fixed, and Satori said that she was going ?to find the glass vendor.? But she never did.
Three stanzas passed.
Maybe it was because of the family name. Not only was her family the quickest to call people out on their thoughts, but their methods of punishment had a unique brand. Her older sister had just recently picked up on it, and the denizens of the underground were quick to follow on her ascent to power. As much as possible, they avoided her.
When their parents had passed away, Satori took the opportunity to ask the girl about the new authority they both had, and they had yet another? argument, to put things simply. There wasn?t any word weaker that could describe it.
?You won?t have to tell them off anymore,? Satori would say, ?You could just punish them on the spot, or you could bring them to me.?
?But I?m not sure I?ll do it right,? the girl would always answer.
??And neither do you think I will.? Oh, really? Well, practice makes perfect, right?? Satori would counter with crossed arms and an indignant tone.
?I don?t know. I guess we?ll see.?
?You don?t know?? the older one?s voice would rise incredulously, ?I thought you were questioning my judgment??
?I don?t know whether you?ll be able to pull everything off every time. You?ve seen father; he does everything correctly the first time.?
?You?re underestimating me. You?re not even trying to hide it,? Satori would then look away to some window, formulating some sort of continuation. ?You really don?t like something this new and privileged, do you??
?Playing in the gardens was always nice,? the girl would comment with a grin.
A sigh would follow. ?I guess we still have time for that. Race you.?
They would race to the garden behind the palace. It was a place filled with flowers of all seasons, with roses, orchids, birds-of-paradise, rafflesia, wisteria, cherry blossoms, dandelions, tulips, and even more than anyone could care to count. There was that giant sinkhole in the middle, leading to the former Hell of Blazing Fires. It was a drop of a hundred feet to reach the smoldering grounds of the abandoned site. The two sisters would look down at the orange speck to past the time.
?Someday, that dot?s going to burn real bright again, and I guess we?re all going to busy with it,? the girl would muse.
Satori would only raise an eyebrow at her and continue staring at the steep drop.
Sometimes, she had to wonder how Satori found entertainment.
Half a stanza passed by. From thoughts of her sister, the girl turned her attention to the memories with her pets. Of course, they were no ordinary animals; in Gensokyo, you were to expect that animals who lived past the age when they would have died and behaved intelligently were the youkai of lore, shape-shifters who weren?t quite as feral as the stories made them to be.
They had kept her company, and she kept them company, too. In particular, there were two: a kasha, a black cat of death, named Rin, and a hell raven named Utsuho. Satori, at the request of her sister, had allowed them residence at the Palace of the Earth Spirits. This led to an overflow of ?friends? that had hitched a ride on Rin and Utsuho?s favors, to the annoyance of both Komeijis.
Stories were told, games were played, and even more daring ones were bet on.
Oh, the thrill of them all! They would make petty raids on the bakery by the broken wall, making off with weirdly-shaped bread that tasted heavenly, not to mention chewy and firm. Even when they weren?t hungry, they stole from the bakery anyway, just for the laughs and bets.
Sure, they were scolded by some mature, old person, but it was most of the time Satori who would groan in frustration over ?the umpteenth time you?ve done this.? The best part was that she couldn?t do anything to stop them.
Those were good times.
Five stanzas were finished.
A climax is nonsense unless there are events leading up to it. They stacked themselves up, and a climax would top it off. If one part was missing, then it would lose meaning, purpose that drove lives.
For the girl, it would be a string of trauma and, admittedly, clich?s that would lead up to hers.
One day, on a year long gone, while her parents were still alive, they visited the satori, oni, and other assorted youkai of the underground. They would not be denied a stroll.
The girl shyly hid behind her parents and her sister. Glancing quickly to the side, she saw the apathetic stare of the onlookers. She couldn?t bear to look at them for a second. She would instead feign interest in the road, kicking pebbles to the side.
Then she would hear one brave soul sneer at her father. ?What do you want now, o just one?? they would say in a sarcastic tone. Her father would ignore them and ask her and Satori where they would like to eat.
?Oh, are you running away?? the mockers would notice her father?s indifference and take another shot at it.
When the girl?s third eye would read that man?s thoughts, she would be terrified. Thoughts of harsh criticism that would come from her father?s mouth, of torturous executions, and of tyrannical dominance that begets submission would flood into her own. In every single one of these, she could see her father?s third eye glaring at her with intense resentment. And it was all because of that third eye.
She would whimper. It was one of many whimpers she would squeal.
Six stanzas finished. One more to go. In the silence, the girl could hear the howl of the wind.
Whoooooooo?She was all alone in this endeavor. No friends, no family, no nothing. No one would, and no one could extend their support to her. Running away was generally viewed as a cowardly act; this, she understood.
Half a stanza passed.
Like the parable of the prodigal son, the girl was the wasteful one, and by morning, she would return home, unworthy to be called a ?
What would she become? She would be branded an outcast to the satori race, but now easily accepted into others? as an equal. The trade-off would be worth it, she reminded herself. This infernal responsibility would break her like straw, and before she would encounter that fate, she was going to flee. Flee away from home, away from this bittersweet life.
?What the future holds is nigh??
??but nirvana shall consume me before that time!?
With that, the life in the girl?s third eye vanished, leaving it in an eternal slumber.
She sighed in relief.
Then her two eyes closed shut, and the third one opened wide, frantically turning its sights everywhere before her.
And she saw a vision.
The scene before her was vivid. Panicked running, a figure approaching her, and labored breathing; she felt them all. Her head was teetering, so she couldn?t get a clear look at the person running towards her. The words that came from either of them were muddled.
There was a warm embrace. There were tears dropping on her shoulder.
Tears streaked down the girl?s own eyes, too.
The dream ended. The girl looked down and saw that her third eye was closed again. Nausea overtook her, and her head teetered drunkenly.
She heard loud footsteps from behind her. The girl froze in place.
?Koishi!?
Now, the girl was afraid.
Trembling, she got up from the chair, turned about face, and went down the stage. In her confused state and wavering vision, she could make out a satori clad in a blue shirt, white-pink skirt, and red hair band. Her red third eye was focused entirely on the girl, while her head trembled in denial of what she discerned.
Fear gripped both of them.
?What are you doing here?? the girl shakily asked.
It was Satori. She had come. How was that possible? Even she was asleep when the girl sneaked out.
Examining what had become of the girl, Satori could not reply. She held the girl?s third eye in her hands, hoping it still had life.
She couldn?t help but cry.
As the elder Komeiji broke down, she embraced the girl and held her tightly in her grasp. The girl was caught unawares, her body unmoving. Warm tears fell on her shoulder.
She had not offered her an explanation yet. Why was Satori crying? This wasn't some big deal.
The question gave its own answer.
She wouldn't be able to care anymore. The emotions in her would eventually fade into nothing, and all she would be left with was happiness.
Happiness for what?
Before blacking out, Koishi cried.
