Woden !A6S8gKlXfU 2008/09/04 (Thu) 14:25 No. 6869 It takes you a while to calm Akyu down. You run your hand through her hair, pat her back, tell her that she's safe. After a few minutes she sits down in the boat and you follow suit. She's red in the face, bunching the ends of her sleeves up in her fists. She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand and you take her by the shoulder, gently.
"Akyu, tell me what's wrong." You say. "Whatever it is, I'll listen." You leave out 'And I'll take you back to your parents when I've calmed you down enough'.
She sniffs loudly, but her expression holds less mania now. She seems somehow more lucid. She must have been holding those tears in for a long time. She glares over at you, trying to hide the embarrassment of crying.
"Nobody will listen." She says, voice very serious.
You nod. "Adults not paying attention to your opinions?"
Her eyes narrow at you as she cocks her head. Something clicks in your head and you remove your hand from her shoulder, uttering an apology. Hieda no Akyu isn't just some angst teenager who decided to run away from home. She might have the judgement of a child, but she's got the genetic memories of literally dozens of lives.
It dawns on you that she probably has a good reason for this.
"Sorry Akyu." You say. "Who won't listen to what?"
She shakes her head, eyes darting at the forest on either side. Then she reaches into the pack and pulls out an old oil-lamp. It takes her a moment to light the wick, after which the boat is illuminated with a soft yellow glow. The quickly deepening night seems all the more oppressive now.
"Nobody will listen to me. My parents, Keine. I went to the village elders, but they laughed at me. I had to do this alone." She says, looking at you.
"What were you trying to tell them?"
She pauses, for a long time, then turns away with a sour look on her face. "You'll laugh, everyone must think I'm going mad."
You cough. "I'm from outside, remember? I've seen giant metal birds and magic picture-boxes and machines that talk to each other across the length of the world. I'm not going to laugh at you."
Akyu looks back up at you, frowning. "Okay." She says, quietly. You nod.
"The Yukkuris." She says. "They're dangerous."
You don't laugh. Not because you promised you wouldn't, but because of the look of utter terror that comes into Akyu's eyes as she speaks.
"Domesticated ... they're fine, even wild, it doesn't matter." She starts to speak more rapidly now, grabbing hold of your arm. "I ... I was curious, I bought some of them a few weeks ago, thought they were kind of cute." She tries to smile, but it looks wooden.
"Then I started to wonder. Where did they come from? Why do they behave like they do? Why do they constantly ask for food?" She waits for a response.
You shrug. "They're greedy?"
She shakes her head. "It's not that simple, you see." She rummages in the pack for a moment and pulls out a large note book. She flips the pages and you spot endless graphs, numbers and charts. She must have filled the whole notebook with data.
"Look." She says, holding a page up so you can see in the light. You can't make head nor tail of the graph.
"What does it mean?" You ask.
Akyu makes an annoyed sound through her teeth. "I started to test them." She says. "I ... I worked something out. If you feed them enough, they get bigger. They a-assimilate all the matter they eat, a-add it to their bulk. They're like certain species of fish, they just keep getting bigger."
You frown, realising why this might be a problem. "Go on." You say.
"I put one of them on a heavy diet, a Yukkurisa. As much fat and protein as I could find. It grew and it ... started to refer to itself differently. It started to lead the others. Do you understand?" She asks, eyes manic.
You shake your head. "Explain."
"It ... they don't have long-term memory. The ones that look like Patchouli remember everything they're ever told, but they make no connections, they don't use the information. The one I fed ... the bigger it got, the more it started to think. It would remember feeding patterns. When it worked out that I was taking away the koyukkuris to control the population, it found ways to hide them." Akyu's voice is harsh now, her breathing a little panicked.
"The bigger it got, the more it learned. It could make plans. It could plan!" She almost shouts, voice muffled by the forest.
You nod. "I think I'm starting to understand."
Akyu nods back at you. "They were made, I mean ... look at them! They're not natural, they keep getting bigger and bigger. The larger they get, the longer they live and they-"
Akyu stops abruptly as the boat bumps into the bank of the river. Something rustles in the bushes and both of you turn to face it. Your hand goes into your pocket, fist around your knife.
"Yu~?" A wild Yukkureimu bounces out from under the leaves, peering at you. "Mister! Miss! Yu~ Get Reimu food! Reimu is hungry!" It says, looking smug.
Akyu reaches out and quickly hoists the Yukkuri up by its hair. She holds it between you and her.
"Yu~! Let Reimu go! Yu~!" It starts to tear up, mouth wobbling.
"They eat, and they convert everything into bean paste." Akyu says with disgust as she prods the Yukkureimu with a finger. "They have no muscles, no organs, nothing but paste inside them. Its like somebody wanted to turn the whole of Gensokyo into nothing but bean paste."
"Wait wait wait." You say. "What? That's a bit of a leap, isn't it? They're a horrible pest species, if everything you've said is true, but that's all."
"You don't get it!" Akyu screams, suddenly smashing the Yukkureimu against the bottom of the boat.
"Bugyu~" It splits open, greenish paste leaking from a massive split in its side. "Ah~ ga~ edjy~" It tries to speak, face a mask of pain and shock, tears everywhere.
You stare in amazement.
"Where are they all coming form?!" Akyu shouts, then catches herself. "If ... if they keep getting bigger when they eat, if I've read the changes in the patterns of animal migration right, then they're coming from down there." She points behind her, down the long, winding stretch of the river. "Deep in the forest." She drops the twitching, shattered Yukkureimu on the deck and moves forwards, grabbing you by the collar.
"Imagine how big they're getting." She says, face full of horror. "How clever, how thick-skinned."
[ ] This is madness, she's insane.
[ ] Akyu may be right.
But in any case:
[ ] What do you do?