/jp/ - Otaku Culture

Yesterday, we made history.

It's hard to tell if it's good or bad history; the winners after tomorrow will decide that. Keine and those who did not lose their cool in the face of some heavy weaponry are getting ready, same is true for the old sack of bones… I tsk with a twitch of my eyebrow, suddenly uncomfortable, and take out the cigarette from my mouth, puffing acrid smoke onto the thicket of bamboo surrounding me.

Keine went on and on this morning about how those people couldn't be blamed and that it's in their right to leave when danger is too great… Bullshit, but I refrained from quarreling with her about it for obvious reasons—the immortal judging others that fear for their lives.

Still, to want to do better, to have things change… Yet not applying yourself, even with danger involved? What's the fucking point, then? To talk yet to hide behind fear when push comes to shove; in this I find myself agreeing with the Hieda jiji: amassing weapons and men to go and destroy your opponent and actually following with the threats instead of just sitting down and talking would've got him much better results—in a world without me, that’s it; I'd still have killed him and his entire clan if one of mine had bled.

In mine and Keine's cases, there'd be no risk. I could just burn all them to ashes; she’d take office and that's it. Easy, no risk to squishy people like Suzu and a surefire way to kick-start a better world for our children.

… I sigh. As if things were that simple.

Discomfort persists, and the cigarette provides no peace of mind—not for the future, nor in the form of a cork to stop all these disgusting thoughts or the memories of my sweet little boy looking at me with wide eyes, crying, his hand on fire and—

—Suddenly, a soft hand catches my neck. What the—

And tugs on it like a bow's rope, my body jolting, eyes bulging, falling backwards, cig lost as sheer strength tears my neck apart and draws everything inside out in violent gushes of blood… But with flames leaping to life and wide eyes sparkling with abrupt ecstasy, nothing of that mattered, because Kaguya stood there with a neutral smile, robes smeared in blood and viscera, a sick smirk on my face as I saw her holding my still warm respiratory system—even my goddamn lungs. “I told you I wasn't going to notify you next time~” Her gaze then fell on the lungs, soaked in blood. “Also, smoking? I thought you'd stopped…” All that blood and organ amalgam was evaporated from her by Danmaku, returning the Lunarian to her so prized beauty. “It's a bad habit. It makes the kisses with that teacher taste grimy. See this as an act of friendship.”

I laughed, body already healed. “How’d you know that, Kags? I thought you were pure~” Wings of fire spread wide, illuminating the Bamboo Forest of the Lost.

“Purity gets boring after a while. I tried going to the HSE, but Eirin and Yukari barred me—said my beauty would forever ruin their guinea pig and husband, respectively.” The world around her quickly fills with the shine of a million and one Danmaku pellets overlaying one another as she muses and smiles placidly. “… That may or may not be the truth, and the truth may be that I was too embarrassed. Winner decides which is truth?”

I crack my knuckles, fire rising like pyres, hair a combustion by itself. “Hell yeah!” And so I advanced, all that Danmaku she amassed propelling forward like a tsunami; some lunatics would've dodged and grazed everything with meticulous precision… Heh, losers.

A walk turns into a run, and a run into a furious flight towards death, a world of pure fire tailing me. As usual, the critical point where my flesh meets Kags's Danmaku felt… heavenly—

Red sprays of blood and limbs scattered in fountain-like bursts, my body nothing but a destroyed torso as the wave dispersed—

—A pillar of fire, and it was all new, and I was still smiling as I rushed Kags, another wave incoming; more of the same ecstasy coursing inside as I reached her and, with both hands aiming forward, took hold of each side of her head… Just to rend it open like a sheet of paper, warm blood painting my skin and clothes, boiling in my fire, feeding my soul the same way the ground would feed from the brain matter—

Hands holding soft skin, hair…

Those big eyes on me, Mystia's words echoing inside…

I am flung aside by a wave of Danmaku, my body torn and hurled towards a skinny tree like a shabby doll, the contact ripping me in two at the waistline. It didn't take more than a second for me to create a new and as strong pair of legs, lifting myself and ready to assault the Lunarian again— “Are you feeling unwell, Mokou?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” I inquire, already on her face, a fire punch tearing and severing chunks of her torso.

“Smoking; that second of hesitation. You typically fight with an empty head—or is that just your modus operandi now?” My arms vanished in a flow of Danmaku. I pouted. She giggled. “Sorry~anything you’d like to tell me?”

“… Well, ugh, you see…”