Image has been hidden due to plot spoilers. Proceed at your own risk. Or, if you had "expand all images" enabled, well...oops.
------------------------------------------
WINNER: [X] Listen to your boss, go back to work.
Sweat is starting to roll down my forehead, although I think that’s more from the midday sun blazing downward than any nerves I feel building within me. In the months I’ve shadowed my boss, I’ve managed to gage his reaction on various topics, whether from the rare comment he gives when pushed for a direct answer or, more often, through his unique language of facial expressions and upper body movements. Even if he has a firmly rooted opinion he will not budge on—such as this traditional outlook on a human’s interactions with a youkai—I have found it is possible to make him relent should I come up with a convincing enough argument. His current stance tells me so, as the tense blades of his shoulders aren’t firm enough to appear absolutely rigid.
I hope the fact I can tell the difference between two ways somebody stands isn’t a sign of having nothing to do in between jobs. I’d like to think of myself as a productive person.
Well, I gain nothing from simply thinking about things! It’s time to convince him how I intend to wrap up the little chat Kyouko and I are having, how it won’t be but another minute more, and that I’m even willing to work overtime today to make it up to him. This is simply to iron out the last few details that need confirmation, and make sure there are no misunderstandings between me and her. I can feel the momentum building within me! The birds chirp a song in my honor! The crickets play a tune to accompany my statements! The crowd murmurs words of encouragement from a distance! I can do this! I! AM! …
…wait, the crowd?
My head glances down the alley. Oh, look. There’s a whole group of villagers, observing the debate that’s been going on between me and my boss. They keep their distance from us three and whisper to each other, the gossip sure to evolve into something far more malignant. A few occasionally gesture to one of us. Some have a very palpable glare bound in this direction. I can assume who they’re for.
What’s that feeling? Ah, right. That would be the momentum I described before, realizing it’s standing on loosened soil and plummeting into a sinkhole, hoping never to be found.
This has now become entirely the wrong time to drag this out. How long have those people been there? How much did they overhear? Surely, Mr. Touma isn’t so loud as to attract attention like this, is he? But even so, they’re still here, and if I tried to defend myself not only would I come across as gripy and unreliable, but it would also get me labeled as a deserter for going against the will of the village. That could eventually lead to banishment from town, forcing me to live outside the walls. There’s no possible way I could make that work by myself. I can’t let these people dictate my future. I have no other choice but to comply for right now.
But that means I can’t finish talking with…
Sighing disheartenedly, I bow toward the looming figure that is my mentor and speak clearly, “I understand. I apologize for disobeying your orders, sir. I will not let it happen again.” My eyes are closed the whole way through. I don’t want them open to catch a side-glance at any nasty motions the uninvited audience flings my way. After bowing, I straighten and turn around to Kyouko. She wears a petite expression of despondency, unnoticeable to anyone standing from afar. Well, I’m right here, and I can empathize completely. “I’m sorry,” I mutter to her, before making my way to the front of the building. Much as I’d like to finish things off more orderly, staying in this position for very much longer only makes interaction between us more complicated for the future. Hopefully she understands.
With that, I head to the front doors. That means going down the alley and pushing through the assembled throng. What an adventure.
Behind me, the shouting starts anew. “What do you want? There’s nothing here to see. Go off with you!” It seems Mr. Touma finally noticed the crowd as well. He’s never been one to care for gossip, so the act of sending the tattles on their way makes me feel somewhat better. Still, I can hear bits and pieces of dialogue as everyone returns to their respective jobs. Some continue to speculate about my allegiance, others seem to have already condemned me in their minds. It becomes such a silent tempest of noise I can almost hear the wind itself cussing out these circumstances.
Huh, so I can make out faint details such as that, and yet a massive wall of peepers mysteriously escapes my awareness.
When did my senses become so selective?
Once inside the shop, I firmly latch the door closed, wishing not to see any more people than I’m required for the next several hours. Mr. Touma is already sealing the window shut, grumbling to himself about how the casements need replacing. He tends to do that with a lot of the older mechanisms around the building, although it is one of the older structures in the village.
“Now then,” he rasps, making his way to the double doors leading to the smelting area, “I recall you were in the middle of a forging assignment for the training corps. You’ll want to get on that.”
I nod, before my mouth delivers some choice words. “There really wasn’t any need to be so surly to her, sir.”
He pauses to look at me, a face passing that would rather not continue this line of conversation and just move on. I agree with that, but I’d like it to end on more finite terms. “Everything has its purpose in time. You are to be here shaping and weighting the blades. I saw the paper slips the yamabiko was carrying. That girl was clearly given her own task. The two of you taking time to talk to one another only served to distract both of you from your respective duties.” His eyes narrow before he concludes; “I merely guided you back to your currently required course.”
“And I’m grateful for that, sir, like I’ve been since the day you hired me. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you if my livelihood was at stake. But there is a difference between slacking off and giving a moment to hear the concerns of a…” I stop, wondering if that word I have in mind would only strain things further. Well, maybe if I slightly altered it. “A very friendly youkai, such as Kyouko. She just wanted some help with a personal trouble, and she was willing to put her faith in me. The least I could do is repay her.” All told, I’m not sure why I feel it important to divulge this private information to Mr. Touma, old-guarded as he is. Perhaps if he were able to have another perspective to view my situation from, he could develop a better understanding? Whatever the reason, it feels necessary to give a voice to Kyouko’s dilemma when she’s unable to speak it herself.
Something in what I say seems to have reached my boss, for he stares at the floor closely in the room across the doorway. It doesn’t resemble a look of concession, but it also isn’t as sharp as it had been moments before. It takes me a few seconds to realize he is addressing me, as his tone has grown hushed. “Keiichi, I would never attempt to drive a barrier into your private life. The friends you wish to associate with are up to you. I have no say in the matter. And to give aid to a friend in need is a most honorable gift to impart,
so long,” he stresses, “as that does not interfere with your working hours. Surely, if this is as important an issue as you make it out to be, there can be time made between the two of you to discuss it later, can there not?”
Well, that’s not quite what I expected, although I’m not sure what
was to be expected from this. In any case, it’s a sufficient response for me to hear. “I suppose so, sir.”
“Then that should be the end of this. You have found your focus once more?”
I breathe in deeply and smile. It feels like the first time I’ve done that in several minutes—smile I mean, though I guess an argument could be made for the other option given this atmosphere. “Right in front of me, sir.”
Mr. Touma makes a single nod, not turning to face me. “Go finish shaping those blades.”
Without another word, I make my way past him and open the doors leading to the smelting room. I feel somewhat better about how things are right now. Yes, maybe the way I parted with Kyouko wasn’t how I envisioned it taking place, but it’s the way it happened. I can’t argue with it any longer. For now, I have to put this behind me. Nothing else is going to break my stride or slow me down. Oh no, just get back to work, and know that there’ll be another chance to talk with her. If I have time, I could walk to the temple and see what the visiting hours are. It shouldn’t be too…
…I just realize that I never took one of Kyouko’s pamphlets like I said I would. Now my mood has been soured ever so slightly.
Damn crowd.
----------------------------
“Damn crowd.”
High above a stone-and-wood built weapons shop, unseen by natural eyes, a lone figure floats several meters from touching anything in particular, cross with the world. Having just made her way from a section of the shop’s roof right above a window, she takes her time to pocket a shaker of unfamiliar substance—a shaker she had been scrambling to retrieve moments before when it seemed the tension between the young kid and the old, bald man was about to tip over. That proved entirely unnecessary with the abrupt appearance of a new, unwelcomed and unplanned third-party. Now having to watch her source of amusement be unceremoniously whisked out of her grasp again was proving to be more aggravating than she’d initially expected.
“Why do humans have to be so concerned with the babble of others, anyway?” she asked no one in particular. She chuckled before a chance for imaginary folks to answer could be given. “Well duh, I know the reason for that,” she spoke as her free hand playfully knocked her on the forehead once, “the suffering of others is fun to watch!” So obvious as well. She was experienced in the ways of making people’s lives distressing, subtle and otherwise, in order to make her life less so. If it had managed to get her this far, why stop now?
Still, it was a bit of a bother. All this work put into one simple human for one half-hour, and it proved fruitless. “Must be more out of practice than I thought,” the woman muttered as she pulled a wood pipe from inside her blouse. It was true that she could feel her old powers returning, slowly but surely, but it was still far too gradual a pace for her. She was used to tick-tock flow; every single second of a plan being put to good purpose to ultimately realize the final outcome. Naturally, she was the one to profit most from the success, but she didn’t mind if overflow made its way to other wanderers. She had never been particularly greedy, after all. Just take what’s necessary, and give the leftovers to someone you know can benefit you even more in the long run. That was one of the best lessons she had learned in the centuries that pasted, and she stood by her creed.
Lighting the pipe with a simple spell, the unseen lady took a bulking inhalation of the sweet fumes, all the while pondering the scene that had taken place moments ago. “Okay,” she exhaled, muttering quietly, “so the first try didn’t work. Big whoop. That’s what usually happens with all the great thinkers and inventors. Initial theory fails? Go back and fix it so it doesn’t fail; simple as that.” There was a good plan set up in there, it was just a matter of tweaking it to keep the guinea pig on course, striding to the goal.
Granted, that shouldn’t be too difficult to accomplish now. She had overheard much of the conversation between the kid and the wimp yamabiko, and could tell his curiosity rose with every word uttered in his direction. It was quite fortunate for assistance to emerge from one of them. Their naiveté to their surroundings would be their downfall, as it was only a matter of time before everything fit into place.
Once more, things would be going her way.
Usual smugness restored, the woman chuckled in her throat as the smoke’s odor began to saturate the area. “See you around, kid. It won’t be much longer.” Then, wrapping her silky ribbon tighter to her body, she flew off for the forest. There would be much strategizing done that night.
----------------------------
The rest of the day went by quickly after my stimulating encounter late in the morning. Stirred once more to work, I was able to polish and cut two additional swords to add to the one from previously. There’s still quite a bit more to do, but two swords is incredibly fast paced in this industry. The amount of labor and attention to detail to create a perfect blade is of top priority, and anyone who can blaze by at this rate is considered a treasure in his own right. I’m just lucky that treasure happens to be me.
Once I’m done for the day, I present the output of my energy to my employer. Mr. Touma thoroughly inspects the weapons with his eyes and hands, running his fingertips gently down the fuller and then the edges. He carefully weighs each blade in his palm to make sure neither has been deformed in any part of the metal. Once satisfied, he gives me a pleased grunt and a nod—the standard body language for ‘good job’—and hands the pair back to me to place away in storage. It’s the small things like this that make me glad to be a part of the village’s defense force, however indirect.
The one downside to my passion and commitment is that I often go beyond what’s technically required for my shift. Most days that only means a few minutes past six, if the workload has been relatively moderate. On a day like this though, I can see that nearly a full hour has gone by, once I exit the windowless smelting area. Yep, right on the wall clock—fifty minutes past the hour. I’d asked for a higher salary, but that isn’t an option until my apprenticeship becomes a full-blown job.
If it becomes my full time job, of course.
Grabbing my carrying bag, I say my farewell for the day and exit out into the street. The sun is roughly halfway through its descent of the horizon, and the village has likely been sealed up for the night. That means I can’t go to the temple—I had pondered visiting Kyouko to apologize for the way we left earlier, but it looks as though I’ll have to put such a thing off for the moment. I do hope she manages to sort her worries out. I’m glad to see her acting so strong and capable for her own well-being (at least, for a youkai her age), but her occasional lack of self-worth poses as somewhat troublesome. Does it stem from her bashful nature? Her upbringing? A desire to better conform to new surroundings? Hopefully other people have noticed this. It’s not good to see someone so cheerful and sweet have to fret over the silliest of tribulations. I know that we happen to share a tribulation currently, but I’m just a human, and not a very physical one at that. Even if she looks to be absent in strength, I imagine she’d be able to take care of herself when push comes to shove.
In a way, that's how we're similar and different to one another.
It’s not a very long walk home, so I arrive there within a few minutes. Along the way, I keep myself entertained with visions of the meal I’ll be eating tonight. It’s bound to be something special. We don’t make the largest of incomes, so family dinners are mostly sparse between the five of us. But after saving up some jar money for a few weeks, we like to indulge in a more elaborate form of cooking every once in a while. The types with fancy meats that take half-a-day or more to prepare and come served with trays of additional sides. Because of the rarity it has grown to be one of my most looked forward to events. And tonight is what that feeling has been building up towards.
At least, that’s what I thought.
“We still don’t have pork in the ice box?”
Mama Kiku is bent down in the bottom shelf of the pantry, looking for a container of still partially warm food cooked earlier in the evening. Despite how cramped our pantry is, this proves to be a minor contest for the woman who’s stared it down more times than I can count. “Yeah, sorry Ke’chi. ‘Parently there was some sorta miscount at the butchery market. Didn’t have as many pork roasts as they ‘spected. Should have a fresh shipment ina couple a days, but until then,” she stands up with a solid, tray-sized box, the kind with a lid you flip open on hinges, and presents it to me, “we’ll hafta settle for the usual.” She says it with a laid-back smile, a smile I’ve come to enjoy seeing. Even if there is an impressive amount of work that’s been dumped into her lap, my mother is able to take it all in stride, as just another task that needs settling. There isn’t very much that can truly upset her at this point in her life.
While disappointed by the news of delayed oral heaven, it can wait just a bit longer. After all, the longer you hold back on something enjoyable, the better it will taste once it finally appears. With that thinking in mind I accept the boxed meal with gratitude, and go to sit at our main table. As I eat the slightly soggy (but still completely edible) grub, my younger siblings run by to chat with me. We exchange some basic back-and-forth, talking about our respective days, me leaving out the major details of my day. I tell them about the bagel I was given, and pull it out of my sack to present. The way their eyes light up upon witnessing the bizarre bread is enough to make me fold in when they ask to take a better look at it. So the two rip the remaining chunk in half, each taking a respective oversized bite. My sister thinks it’s too hard to chew, which is understandable given her underdeveloped mouth, while my brother asks with a gleam in his eyes if I could bring him one when I return home tomorrow. Well, that shouldn’t be a problem, and I ruffle his hair to tell him so. As is typical he squirms away from me in his seat, talking about how he’s too old to be receiving the cute boy praise inflicted upon him the last several years. Yeah, you may be twelve, but you’ll always be prone to pets as far as I’m concerned.
I think this is just what I need: a small dosage of simple family time, after all the craziness that has been my day.
Once finished with my meal, I wash out the insides of the box tray and put it away in the cabinets. The rest of the evening is spent preparing for bed and doing some brief bedside reading from my checked out book. This aides in my drifting into a different state of consciousness, with the flicker of my oil lamp also serving a beneficial hand. The instant I reach a good stopping point, I place the title on my nightstand and retire for the day. There is no major disturbance while I sleep, and my dreams are not much to speak about.
The new day arrives shortly after, with a mixture of contradictory feelings bound inside me. Eagerness to once again stand before a wooden counter and make the future of the local Gensokyo militia come closer to being a reality. Excitement in my search to figure out whether I was hearing anything at all yesterday. Dread at the thought of something horrible overwhelming me when I get there, or just discontent to find an absence of anything remarkable to behold. Really, from thinking solely about what will happen when I get off for my lunch break the rest of my morning routine and walk to work are simply a blobby background I saunter through. Even my visit to the bakery is hazy, but I somehow remember to order a biscuit with a covered cup of jam for spread. At least that sorts out where my lunch is coming from.
The weapons shop is the same as it’s ever been, and I get to work the moment I enter my area. Everything I am able to do with a mechanical set of motions well drilled into my head at this point, and I don’t really need to focus all that closely for this particular assignment. It’s only stylizing the hilts of the almost completed swords, properly dressing them up with the insignia of our village’s defense order. There are specific instructions in regards to how to go about this, and doesn’t take more than a couple of hours until completion. The remaining time I use to sweep up the shop floor and clean out the furnaces. Have to keep them in top shape, or else the quality of the blades could go down ever so slightly. It also helps that doing this gobbles up more time between now and lunch.
Annnnnd here we are at long last! Time to go explore that forest! I walk up to the front counter where Mr. Touma sits quietly looking over a news magazine. “I’ll be taking my lunch break now, sir.”
“Very well. Don’t repeat what happened yesterday.” He doesn’t peek up from his article.
“Understood,” I confirm. I’m assuming he means the ‘being late by two minutes’ part of it. He probably could care less what I do with my time, so long as I show back up when I’m required.
Now outside the shop, I decide to do a last minute run-through of all my belongings. Admittedly, there isn’t much, but I like to be certain that I have all my carrying items with me. It’ll do to pass the time as I wait for Kyouko to show up. After all, we did talk about—
Wait a second.
I introduced the basic premise of my plan, but before we could discuss it any further, I was cut off.
I proposed meeting up, but
not where or when we’d meet.
Oh gods. Damnit all, in the heat of stress I totally let something important slip my mind!
Again! This memory of mine is proving to be a greater obstacle than I ever suspected.
Well, no problem. I’ll just walk over to the temple and see how she’s doing. I know the general location, and it shouldn’t take too long. I’ll just pop on by and ask someone there where she…where she…sh-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e…
…
…she’s running late. I don’t know why she’s running late. I told her what to do, didn’t I?
Oh well, I can wait, like, five minutes for her. If she doesn’t show, tough beans. She had her chance.
…
…
…Guess that pussyheart didn’t have the necessary courage. Whatevs. I’ll ride this one solo, then.
Make sure my bag is secure on my shoulder, and I’m off. Shame that girl had to wimp out. Serves the dumb bitch right. She probably makes for a terrible Buddhist, anyways.
Huh. This sounds unreasonably harsh…not that I could care less. I’ve got a forest to attend to.
----------------------------
On the roof of a stone-and-wood built weapons shop, unseen by natural eyes, a woman lies in silence, watching an everyday villager make his way toward one of several exit gates. Her eyes remain fixated on his distancing form, all the while she takes her time screwing the cap onto a shaker of unfamiliar substance. The name is somewhat misleading; while the contents are unknown to the living organisms around her, she is quite familiar with the properties of the contained powder. She did spend a great number of years developing the formula, didn’t she?
After the cover has been fastened, she encloses the small frame in her fist, resting her chin on her hands, the sustained musing expressing not leaving her face long after the young man is out of sight, or when the briefest of breezes blows strands of blue across her view. That’s one potential pitfall knocked out—now for the main plan to finally be under way.
“Nice try, my little puppet. Nice try, but not this time.”
----------------------------
Walking out of the walls now. Better wave to the guard on duty. Look friendly, and all that.
I suppose now’s a good opportunity to eat my biscuit. Don’t waste any more time on this hunt than what’s needed.
…
Right, so here’s the tree where I usually eat and read. Lookin’ good, tree.
I examine the grove in front of me. There appear to be three equally comparable paths laid out: one heading to the left, another traveling to the right, and a middle way obscured with mild plant overgrowth.
Any one looks just as good as the other.
[ ] The left path.
[ ] The middle path.
[ ] The right path.
------------------------------------------
For once this thread is archived and properly deleted, I present a link to the original image used:
http://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/1250992
That way, all you future readers need not worry about missing something in two years' time. I understand your frustration in those instances. I've been there. If nothing else, you can't say I'm not thoughtful of my audience.