- Location
- Ohio
Constellations (Worm/Okami)
- Thread starter UnwelcomeStorm
- Start date
thefluffyone
Big Ego for Something so Small, eh?
- Location
- Earth
I....don't think so?
Having the head of the Brush Gods help her probably made Taylor....pretty damn good.
- Location
- Australia
Oh hells yes. Time for Ammy to make everything better.
Chapter 2
UnwelcomeStorm
BARK! BARK! BARK!
- Location
- United States
2
"Hey, what's this?" Emma asked, picking up the small pewter model from the desk. It looked like a tiny person, holding a staff and wearing a cape. "Myrddin?"
"Ha, no. I guess that's an elf sorcerer? One of the little models from Dad's game he plays. I said I wanted to try painting them, so he got me a few to practice with. I'm not allowed to paint his characters until I get better, I think." Taylor gestured at the supply-strewn top of her dresser. Bottles of glue, small tubs of paint, more tiny statuettes, an aerosol can of painting primer... Emma shook her head.
"More art stuff? Seriously, Taylor. You're in here, like, every day doing this. Isn't your dad out almost every night with this game stuff, too? I'm surprised you'd want anything to do with it."
"Well, yeah..." Taylor admitted. It would be nice if Dad was home more often, but... "It's better than him moping around the house, right?"
"You mean like what you're doing?"
"I am not moping!"
"Sure you're not." Emma tsked, and set the tiny model aside.
"I'm not, and don't be a jerk about it!" Taylor frowned, and Emma gave a slight grimace and a muttered apology. Taylor tugged a hand through her hair, blowing a sigh through her nose. "S'fine. And I really am not moping. You know I'm going to that art camp next week, I want to make sure none of my skills are rusty."
"Like you even need to practice," Emma said with a grin. "But yeah, I get it. I know you'll do fine. Just don't forget to call me! I wanna hear about all your nerdy crap!"
Taylor's hand snapped out and ruffled Emma's hair, prompting a startled squawk from the girl. "Nerdy crap? I'll show you nerdy!" Emma squeaked and tried to escape, but Taylor had long arms and a long reach, and she knew all of her friend's ticklish spots.
Taylor smiled; it got a little easier every day.
* * *
Taylor smiled, because she couldn't quite get her face to express properly, it felt like. Her brow furrowed in confusion, like it was supposed to, but the rest of her?
"Taylor, I mean it. We're through. Get lost, I don't ever want to see you again."
Maybe she smiled because she couldn't begin to describe what else she was feeling. Taylor pulled herself up off the pavement, winced at the scrape on her knee, and stared at Emma and the dark-skinned girl behind her. Taylor walked.
The house was empty when she got back, of course. Dad had gone to work as soon as they'd gotten back from the camp drop-off grounds. She trudged up the newly-painted front steps and unlocked the front door, then wandered inside to go clean up. When she finished putting a band-aid on the scrapes and washing the traces of salt off her face, she wandered back out into the silent living room and sat down on the couch. The remote was nearby, but too much an effort to reach for. She picked at the band-aid.
Something flickered in the corner of her vision. Taylor looked around— the house was still and empty. She started to go back to fretting at her bandage when the flicker came again, and on the third time she caught sight of it for real. Outside the window, a white head bounded up, just into view, before falling back down to the grass outside. The wolf jumped again, peeking through the window before falling prey to gravity, then repeated. Taylor stared, and after a few more jumps she got up and opened the window. The wolf jumped a bit higher, and scrambled inside.
"Hey, Sunny! Welcome back." She reached down and rubbed the wolf's ears, traced a finger along the red marking on the canine brow. Sunshine, or Sunny as Taylor had taken to calling her (after being sneezed on one too many times for addressing the wolf as 'Doggy,') was an infrequent visitor, but always a welcome one. The wolf never appeared when Dad or Emma was around, and for the first time Taylor was glad of it. Sharing this animal's friendship with Emma seemed unthinkable, now. Sunshine gave a happy bark, and then a meaningful glance at the kitchen. Taylor sighed.
"No, I... don't really feel up to cooking right now. Sorry." Sunshine cocked her head, and made a confused noise.
"I was gonna tell you about art camp, next time I saw you, but... it hasn't been a good day. I'll tell you if you don't mind listening." Sunshine wuffed, which was probably a yes. She followed Taylor over to the couch, and this time Taylor summoned the energy to reach for the end table. In the drawer was a short stack of take-out menus. Sunshine saw, and thumped her tail on the cushions even as she laid her head on Taylor's thigh, looking up at the girl with the best puppy gaze in the world.
"Heh. Alright... is Chinese okay? I know you like rice." Taylor smiled.
* * *
Sunny came around more often, as summer faded into color and wind. Sometimes the wolf showed up on Taylor's doorstep, but more often she'd simply step out of a hedge as Taylor walked home from school. Taylor was glad for the company; there was no happiness at Winslow for her, most days. The art class was her sole reprieve from the attentions of her fr—her classmates—since neither Emma nor Sophia had any interest in creation. That was all the incentive they needed to target her work, it seemed. A clay pot she'd intended for her father was smashed. A watercolor was splashed with pickled brine. Her pot of India ink was drained into a sink. Nothing was ever done in front of her, there was never anything so direct, but an aura of malice had taken root in every hallway, and she never felt unwatched.
Taylor's days darkened with the slow retreat of the sun.
* * *
Life was a holding pattern for many months, until the end of the school year approached. Wake up, make breakfast, go to school. Endure.
Walk home with Sunny. Paint with Sunny, or draw, or try a new recipe and let the wolf undertake the grave task of sampling every attempt. Feel a bit better.
Until They decided that the upcoming summer break deserved a little celebration. And what celebration is complete without a sacrifice?
Taylor took the ruined flute with her to the old park, the instrument still in the box she'd received it in. She had a few vague thoughts about giving the flute a decent burial, since she couldn't give it a decent life. But when she got to the park, she set the box aside and instead sat down in one of the swings, and kicked her feet listlessly. Heh— memories. A cold nose touched her wrist, and this time she didn't jump.
"Hey, Sunny..." The wolf whined, and sat down next to her. "...I got my flute back today. Mom's flute." Taylor fell silent. There was no need to describe what had happened— Sunshine already knew. Instead, she took a shuddering breath and released it slow. Strong girls don't cry.
"What's— what's even the point? Nothing I do helps. I can't tell Dad, Alan's like his best friend." She swallowed. It was a bitter comparison. "I just— I don't know anymore, Sunshine. What if they just... keep going? What if they don't stop? I— I don't think I can handle it, you know?"
Sunny whined, and pawed at the box a bit, staring at the defiled thing within. The wolf's expression was uncommonly dark. After a moment she turned and startled to snuffle at Taylor's backpack, discarded a few feet away, in the manner she always did when she wanted something. Taylor sighed.
"What? I don't have any food— oh. You want to know what it looked like?" Sunny barked. Taylor shook her head, but got up and started digging through her things anyway. She had a sketch somewhere, in one of these notebooks... ah, there. Taylor pulled out the pencil drawing, this one on plain lined paper, and laid it flat on the ground.
"There, see? It... Mom loved that flute. She used to play it, every Thursday. God, I was so stupid, taking it to school. I should have known They'd want to take it." Taylor reached over and rubbed Sunshine's ears, grasping what comfort she could, but for once the wolf wasn't invested in it. She was staring at the crude sketch, one paw holding the paper down to the ground. After a long moment, the wolf huffed, then padded over to the box.
"Sunny? What's wrong, what are you... doing..." Taylor trailed off. Sunshine was staring into the box, body held perfectly still. When she moved, it was a single, deliberate motion— Sunshine raised her paw and drew it in a slow swipe above the container.
"Sunny, you're freaking me out. Let it go, it's too late, and—" Taylor rose, going over to the box with the intention of pulling the canine away from it, but a glance down at the object of the wolf's attention sapped the strength from her legs. She fell, one arm clutched onto Sunshine for dear life. Inside the box, the defiled and broken flute was whole. The metal was smooth, unscratched, and clean. The holes were clear of filth. The memories were fresh and stinging and alive.
Sunny sat down, tongue lolling out with a pleased grin. Taylor brushed her fingers against her mother's flute. She gripped the wolf tighter, and buried her face into the furry shoulder.
"Thank you."
Sunny licked her cheek, and Taylor rubbed her ears in return. She brushed her fingers against the red markings, now spread to single, elegant lines below the wolf's eyes. Taylor wiped at her own, and kept her voice low. Reverence is a quiet thing.
"You're... really something special, aren't you?" Sunshine just grinned.
Taylor bit down on her lip. Her eyes drifted to the pristine flute, then back to the white wolf. "Do... do you think I could be something special too, someday?"
Amaterasu smiled.
"Hey, what's this?" Emma asked, picking up the small pewter model from the desk. It looked like a tiny person, holding a staff and wearing a cape. "Myrddin?"
"Ha, no. I guess that's an elf sorcerer? One of the little models from Dad's game he plays. I said I wanted to try painting them, so he got me a few to practice with. I'm not allowed to paint his characters until I get better, I think." Taylor gestured at the supply-strewn top of her dresser. Bottles of glue, small tubs of paint, more tiny statuettes, an aerosol can of painting primer... Emma shook her head.
"More art stuff? Seriously, Taylor. You're in here, like, every day doing this. Isn't your dad out almost every night with this game stuff, too? I'm surprised you'd want anything to do with it."
"Well, yeah..." Taylor admitted. It would be nice if Dad was home more often, but... "It's better than him moping around the house, right?"
"You mean like what you're doing?"
"I am not moping!"
"Sure you're not." Emma tsked, and set the tiny model aside.
"I'm not, and don't be a jerk about it!" Taylor frowned, and Emma gave a slight grimace and a muttered apology. Taylor tugged a hand through her hair, blowing a sigh through her nose. "S'fine. And I really am not moping. You know I'm going to that art camp next week, I want to make sure none of my skills are rusty."
"Like you even need to practice," Emma said with a grin. "But yeah, I get it. I know you'll do fine. Just don't forget to call me! I wanna hear about all your nerdy crap!"
Taylor's hand snapped out and ruffled Emma's hair, prompting a startled squawk from the girl. "Nerdy crap? I'll show you nerdy!" Emma squeaked and tried to escape, but Taylor had long arms and a long reach, and she knew all of her friend's ticklish spots.
Taylor smiled; it got a little easier every day.
* * *
Taylor smiled, because she couldn't quite get her face to express properly, it felt like. Her brow furrowed in confusion, like it was supposed to, but the rest of her?
"Taylor, I mean it. We're through. Get lost, I don't ever want to see you again."
Maybe she smiled because she couldn't begin to describe what else she was feeling. Taylor pulled herself up off the pavement, winced at the scrape on her knee, and stared at Emma and the dark-skinned girl behind her. Taylor walked.
The house was empty when she got back, of course. Dad had gone to work as soon as they'd gotten back from the camp drop-off grounds. She trudged up the newly-painted front steps and unlocked the front door, then wandered inside to go clean up. When she finished putting a band-aid on the scrapes and washing the traces of salt off her face, she wandered back out into the silent living room and sat down on the couch. The remote was nearby, but too much an effort to reach for. She picked at the band-aid.
Something flickered in the corner of her vision. Taylor looked around— the house was still and empty. She started to go back to fretting at her bandage when the flicker came again, and on the third time she caught sight of it for real. Outside the window, a white head bounded up, just into view, before falling back down to the grass outside. The wolf jumped again, peeking through the window before falling prey to gravity, then repeated. Taylor stared, and after a few more jumps she got up and opened the window. The wolf jumped a bit higher, and scrambled inside.
"Hey, Sunny! Welcome back." She reached down and rubbed the wolf's ears, traced a finger along the red marking on the canine brow. Sunshine, or Sunny as Taylor had taken to calling her (after being sneezed on one too many times for addressing the wolf as 'Doggy,') was an infrequent visitor, but always a welcome one. The wolf never appeared when Dad or Emma was around, and for the first time Taylor was glad of it. Sharing this animal's friendship with Emma seemed unthinkable, now. Sunshine gave a happy bark, and then a meaningful glance at the kitchen. Taylor sighed.
"No, I... don't really feel up to cooking right now. Sorry." Sunshine cocked her head, and made a confused noise.
"I was gonna tell you about art camp, next time I saw you, but... it hasn't been a good day. I'll tell you if you don't mind listening." Sunshine wuffed, which was probably a yes. She followed Taylor over to the couch, and this time Taylor summoned the energy to reach for the end table. In the drawer was a short stack of take-out menus. Sunshine saw, and thumped her tail on the cushions even as she laid her head on Taylor's thigh, looking up at the girl with the best puppy gaze in the world.
"Heh. Alright... is Chinese okay? I know you like rice." Taylor smiled.
* * *
Sunny came around more often, as summer faded into color and wind. Sometimes the wolf showed up on Taylor's doorstep, but more often she'd simply step out of a hedge as Taylor walked home from school. Taylor was glad for the company; there was no happiness at Winslow for her, most days. The art class was her sole reprieve from the attentions of her fr—her classmates—since neither Emma nor Sophia had any interest in creation. That was all the incentive they needed to target her work, it seemed. A clay pot she'd intended for her father was smashed. A watercolor was splashed with pickled brine. Her pot of India ink was drained into a sink. Nothing was ever done in front of her, there was never anything so direct, but an aura of malice had taken root in every hallway, and she never felt unwatched.
Taylor's days darkened with the slow retreat of the sun.
* * *
Life was a holding pattern for many months, until the end of the school year approached. Wake up, make breakfast, go to school. Endure.
Walk home with Sunny. Paint with Sunny, or draw, or try a new recipe and let the wolf undertake the grave task of sampling every attempt. Feel a bit better.
Until They decided that the upcoming summer break deserved a little celebration. And what celebration is complete without a sacrifice?
Taylor took the ruined flute with her to the old park, the instrument still in the box she'd received it in. She had a few vague thoughts about giving the flute a decent burial, since she couldn't give it a decent life. But when she got to the park, she set the box aside and instead sat down in one of the swings, and kicked her feet listlessly. Heh— memories. A cold nose touched her wrist, and this time she didn't jump.
"Hey, Sunny..." The wolf whined, and sat down next to her. "...I got my flute back today. Mom's flute." Taylor fell silent. There was no need to describe what had happened— Sunshine already knew. Instead, she took a shuddering breath and released it slow. Strong girls don't cry.
"What's— what's even the point? Nothing I do helps. I can't tell Dad, Alan's like his best friend." She swallowed. It was a bitter comparison. "I just— I don't know anymore, Sunshine. What if they just... keep going? What if they don't stop? I— I don't think I can handle it, you know?"
Sunny whined, and pawed at the box a bit, staring at the defiled thing within. The wolf's expression was uncommonly dark. After a moment she turned and startled to snuffle at Taylor's backpack, discarded a few feet away, in the manner she always did when she wanted something. Taylor sighed.
"What? I don't have any food— oh. You want to know what it looked like?" Sunny barked. Taylor shook her head, but got up and started digging through her things anyway. She had a sketch somewhere, in one of these notebooks... ah, there. Taylor pulled out the pencil drawing, this one on plain lined paper, and laid it flat on the ground.
"There, see? It... Mom loved that flute. She used to play it, every Thursday. God, I was so stupid, taking it to school. I should have known They'd want to take it." Taylor reached over and rubbed Sunshine's ears, grasping what comfort she could, but for once the wolf wasn't invested in it. She was staring at the crude sketch, one paw holding the paper down to the ground. After a long moment, the wolf huffed, then padded over to the box.
"Sunny? What's wrong, what are you... doing..." Taylor trailed off. Sunshine was staring into the box, body held perfectly still. When she moved, it was a single, deliberate motion— Sunshine raised her paw and drew it in a slow swipe above the container.
"Sunny, you're freaking me out. Let it go, it's too late, and—" Taylor rose, going over to the box with the intention of pulling the canine away from it, but a glance down at the object of the wolf's attention sapped the strength from her legs. She fell, one arm clutched onto Sunshine for dear life. Inside the box, the defiled and broken flute was whole. The metal was smooth, unscratched, and clean. The holes were clear of filth. The memories were fresh and stinging and alive.
Sunny sat down, tongue lolling out with a pleased grin. Taylor brushed her fingers against her mother's flute. She gripped the wolf tighter, and buried her face into the furry shoulder.
"Thank you."
Sunny licked her cheek, and Taylor rubbed her ears in return. She brushed her fingers against the red markings, now spread to single, elegant lines below the wolf's eyes. Taylor wiped at her own, and kept her voice low. Reverence is a quiet thing.
"You're... really something special, aren't you?" Sunshine just grinned.
Taylor bit down on her lip. Her eyes drifted to the pristine flute, then back to the white wolf. "Do... do you think I could be something special too, someday?"
Amaterasu smiled.
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Kindfragen
Reluctant Assistant
- Location
- Zone 1
Acknowledgment: We needed this. This makes our chest feel all warm and fuzzy.
Concern: That may mean mold is growing in our chest again.
Assurance: We will have someone tell you if we fall to a mold infestation.
Concern: That may mean mold is growing in our chest again.
Assurance: We will have someone tell you if we fall to a mold infestation.
Shoobie_Doo
Glory to Soviet Doge
- Location
- Yes
Wasn't expecting this so soon but the surprise is welcome!
- Location
- Australia
That's kinda what I was expecting too. She would have had two converts then!
kairuf
(Verified Kaiger) (Not the Siberian)
- Location
- The land of Potatoes
What Taylor didn't realize is that all could be special, but some are more receptive to a helping hand than others.
(And to support the Previous Statements, the Okami/worm crosses that I have read have been among the best written & Tragically short worm fics I have read. Here's to you keeping up the first trend and hopefully breaking the second)
Edit: To be Honest, I haven't read a bad Okami fic...ever
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Chinese food and dogs (or in this case, wolves) is a bad combination. Some chinese places will outright tell you not to feed their food to dogs.
Well that and the connotations about eating food from the land of the "setting sun" and of the night. Lead not the food of Mikaboshi
Amaterasu smiles down at those who trying and frowns at those who aren't?
pheonix89
Wants to be Seven Of Nine
- Location
- North American Plaguelands
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Probably have a religious experience.
UnwelcomeStorm
BARK! BARK! BARK!
- Location
- United States
This is very true. People food isn't good for pets in general, but in particular there are a number of spices and common ingredients in what we eat that are outright toxic to pets; anything in the onion family comes to mind, in particular. (Onions, chives, garlic, etc.)
Ammy's not a pet, though. She's a god-dog, and it's pretty well established that she eats just about anything (and everything). Hell, it's a pretty important gameplay mechanic.
- Location
- Red Blood on Golden Shield
Wonder if Ammy has some plans for Taylor...
Since it's an Okami thread, does anyone know where that youtube video of the story of Amaterasu, all the other Kami, and the feast and cave that Susanno fucked up? Its a Chibi version of all of them with a song? I've been meaning to save that.
Chapter 3
UnwelcomeStorm
BARK! BARK! BARK!
- Location
- United States
3
Summer bloomed bright and lively. Weather forecasters remarked often that it was the warmest season Brockton Bay had experienced in a while. Tourism picked up, and the open-air markets dotted throughout the city stayed awake from dawn to nearly midnight. All the shopkeepers and people on the streets made things a little safer, it felt like, made even Taylor a little more willing to go out and skirt the edges of public spaces. Sunshine had every intention of taking advantage of that fact.
Every morning she arrived with the dawn and herded Taylor out onto the sidewalks and the infrequent bike trails, running ahead and barking at everything. Always just far enough ahead that Taylor had to jog to keep up, or walk when her breath was too short. The pair would meander around the streets and through yards and dodge mail deliverers for nearly an hour, then they would return home. By then the neighborhood was always waking up, and Taylor made sure to wave to her elderly neighbor next door when she saw her— Old Mrs. Henrick was pottering about more often lately, her flowerbeds were doing very well this year.
Most days, Taylor stayed inside for the heat of the afternoon, and read or drew. Sunny would often leave, trotting down the sidewalk and vanishing in the haze. On Monday, Daniel Hebert had the day off from work, and they'd order pizza and make an attempt at catching up with each other:
"Looks like you're getting a tan there, sweetheart."
"Yeah, I started running in the morning. Don't worry, I stick to safe areas." It was easy to expand your viable jogging territory in a residential area if you didn't care about things like private property or fences.
"Anything you want at the store this week, Taylor?"
"Uhh... are peaches in season yet?" Sunny seemed to have a particular fondness for the fruit.
"Where'd that big hole in the yard come from?"
"I guess a... stray dog?" Taylor talked her dad around to filling the hole with a sapling, rather than dirt.
"Was that a flute I heard?"
"Yeah, I started practicing again. Every Thursday, you know?" He was happy for her—he was—but a flute only ever sounded sad to him.
"You want pepperoni or sausage tonight?"
"Erm..." Taylor fidgeted, picking at the placemat on the dinner table. Danny looked up from the phone book, where the pizza parlor's delivery number was circled in marker. "Dad, I don't really want pizza. What about— I dunno, meatloaf? Or lasagna?"
A brief cloud of guilt passed over her father's face. "Ah— sorry, honey. I didn't really buy the stuff for any of that. I could order Thai instead?"
"No, that's not—"
"Or there's an Italian place that opened up, I think they deliver. Hang on, I've got a menu somewhere."
"You and Mom used to take turns cooking." Taylor's hand reached her mouth, too late. There was a moment of silence.
Danny was the one fidgeting now. "Honey, that... was a different time, you know that. I'm sorry I don't cook much anymore, but you know when I'm here at night I'm tired from work."
"You were tired then, too, but you still made time for it." Taylor pushed her chair back and stood. "Nevermind. I'm not really hungry. Just... save me a plate of something, whatever you end up getting."
* * *
There was a tupperware container for her in the fridge when she looked the next morning, after her and Sunny's run. Taylor pushed a sweat-damp hank of hair away from her face. She closed the fridge door with the offering still inside.
"Hey, Sunny?"
Hmrmr?
"I'm sick of take-out. Let me take a shower and we'll make something, instead."
When Taylor finished with her shower, she returned to her room to find that Sunshine had been busy. On the bed were the clothes she'd laid out earlier, now covered in muddy paw-prints, and laid atop that was an also-muddy cookbook. At the foot of the bed was Sunshine, looking as pleased as could be. Taylor frowned.
"Did you... bury a cookbook in the back yard?" Bark!
"I see. And was my tee-shirt and jeans not appropriate garments for breakfast?" Bark bark!
"Not cool, Sunny. Not cool." Taylor glared at the wolf, but the smug canine just grinned. Her reprimand ineffective, Taylor instead picked up the dirt-smeared book from the bed. Her brows furrowed as she looked over the contents. "...I don't think sushi is a breakfast food, Sunny."
Whine...
"And I don't have the stuff for this anyway. I've never made sushi."
Whiiiiine...
"AND you ruined my clothes. Why do you get a reward? ...no, don't give me that look— ugh, fine," Taylor sighed. "We'll have to go shopping, I guess... need to find sticky rice and a han— 'hangiri'? Whatever that is. Can I trust you to grab me something to wear that you won't get mud on?" Sunny's dog-smile was absolutely beatific. Taylor grumbled and left to brush out her hair.
* * *
"I should have known. 'Never trust a smiling dog.'" Sunny just smiled wider. Taylor relented and rubbed the wolf's ears. The canine had dug into the very depths of Taylor's closet until she found a long red skirt, buried in a plastic tote and forgotten, and then a loose white blouse to cover it. Taylor hadn't willingly worn bright colors in a year or more, let alone bright red or white. It was too eye-catching, and honestly too loose on her, but her attempts to switch the blouse for a different tee or even a hoodie had been met with lowered ears and a dirt-strewn paw, raised in warning.
The pair took the bus to the informally-acknowledged Asian district. Sunshine kept close to Taylor's skirts, and Taylor kept one hand on the wolf's shoulder, which easily nearly level with her waist. With such a pair, Taylor had expected there to be a bit more commotion, but people moved around them in an unbroken stream. After a while, Taylor relaxed her hold on Sunny, who grinned up at her.
"I don't think I've ever really come out here... and Dad did leave some extra allowance as an apology. What do you think, Sunny? Should we do some exploring?"
A few hours later, after they'd sampled some of the local street vendors (it's not really takeout, and this whole venture was turning into a day trip, anyway), and browsed the local wares ("Ooh, is that a calligraphy set? I think I'll— Sunny why do we need that much ink?"), they stopped to rest at a small tea-shop. Taylor tried green tea for the first time, and gave Sunshine an affectionate ear-rub as she sipped at it.
"Okay, I was skeptical, but— this was a good idea, Sunny. I'm glad we came. Honestly, I'm not sure why I never really came out here before, this place is pretty—"
There was a sudden BOOM from outside, followed by shouts and screams. Sunny's head whipped up, and Taylor heard her growl. The wolf tugged on Taylor's skirts, herding her to leave the shop as the sounds of violence intensified. Right— she never came out here because it was too close to the ABB/E88 border. Taylor needed no further urging. She picked up her purchases in one hand and her skirts in the other, and ran.
"Sunny, go left, we can get back onto 58th, and— Sunny? Sunny?!" The wolf was nowhere in sight. Taylor reversed direction, back towards the sounds of gunfire. Her friend was here, she had to be, she must have gotten turned around or frightened or please let her be okay please please please.
Taylor pushed around the remains of the crowd, abruptly stumbling into an open stretch of street, and directly into the path of someone else. He wasn't tall, but he was solid, and Taylor rebounded off the stranger and fell to the pavement. The man turned: a crimson mask with green stripes leered down at her, the tusked face of a demon. Taylor felt all the air vanish from her lungs. She stared up at the cape, silenced. The cape stared back.
"Miko?" Came a rough voice, rusty and sullen with disuse. Oni Lee's hand rose, the motion almost hesitant. "...Sumimasen."
He vanished in a sprinkling of ash. Taylor sat there a little longer, until Sunny trotted up and licked her cheek in apology.
Summer bloomed bright and lively. Weather forecasters remarked often that it was the warmest season Brockton Bay had experienced in a while. Tourism picked up, and the open-air markets dotted throughout the city stayed awake from dawn to nearly midnight. All the shopkeepers and people on the streets made things a little safer, it felt like, made even Taylor a little more willing to go out and skirt the edges of public spaces. Sunshine had every intention of taking advantage of that fact.
Every morning she arrived with the dawn and herded Taylor out onto the sidewalks and the infrequent bike trails, running ahead and barking at everything. Always just far enough ahead that Taylor had to jog to keep up, or walk when her breath was too short. The pair would meander around the streets and through yards and dodge mail deliverers for nearly an hour, then they would return home. By then the neighborhood was always waking up, and Taylor made sure to wave to her elderly neighbor next door when she saw her— Old Mrs. Henrick was pottering about more often lately, her flowerbeds were doing very well this year.
Most days, Taylor stayed inside for the heat of the afternoon, and read or drew. Sunny would often leave, trotting down the sidewalk and vanishing in the haze. On Monday, Daniel Hebert had the day off from work, and they'd order pizza and make an attempt at catching up with each other:
"Looks like you're getting a tan there, sweetheart."
"Yeah, I started running in the morning. Don't worry, I stick to safe areas." It was easy to expand your viable jogging territory in a residential area if you didn't care about things like private property or fences.
"Anything you want at the store this week, Taylor?"
"Uhh... are peaches in season yet?" Sunny seemed to have a particular fondness for the fruit.
"Where'd that big hole in the yard come from?"
"I guess a... stray dog?" Taylor talked her dad around to filling the hole with a sapling, rather than dirt.
"Was that a flute I heard?"
"Yeah, I started practicing again. Every Thursday, you know?" He was happy for her—he was—but a flute only ever sounded sad to him.
"You want pepperoni or sausage tonight?"
"Erm..." Taylor fidgeted, picking at the placemat on the dinner table. Danny looked up from the phone book, where the pizza parlor's delivery number was circled in marker. "Dad, I don't really want pizza. What about— I dunno, meatloaf? Or lasagna?"
A brief cloud of guilt passed over her father's face. "Ah— sorry, honey. I didn't really buy the stuff for any of that. I could order Thai instead?"
"No, that's not—"
"Or there's an Italian place that opened up, I think they deliver. Hang on, I've got a menu somewhere."
"You and Mom used to take turns cooking." Taylor's hand reached her mouth, too late. There was a moment of silence.
Danny was the one fidgeting now. "Honey, that... was a different time, you know that. I'm sorry I don't cook much anymore, but you know when I'm here at night I'm tired from work."
"You were tired then, too, but you still made time for it." Taylor pushed her chair back and stood. "Nevermind. I'm not really hungry. Just... save me a plate of something, whatever you end up getting."
* * *
There was a tupperware container for her in the fridge when she looked the next morning, after her and Sunny's run. Taylor pushed a sweat-damp hank of hair away from her face. She closed the fridge door with the offering still inside.
"Hey, Sunny?"
Hmrmr?
"I'm sick of take-out. Let me take a shower and we'll make something, instead."
When Taylor finished with her shower, she returned to her room to find that Sunshine had been busy. On the bed were the clothes she'd laid out earlier, now covered in muddy paw-prints, and laid atop that was an also-muddy cookbook. At the foot of the bed was Sunshine, looking as pleased as could be. Taylor frowned.
"Did you... bury a cookbook in the back yard?" Bark!
"I see. And was my tee-shirt and jeans not appropriate garments for breakfast?" Bark bark!
"Not cool, Sunny. Not cool." Taylor glared at the wolf, but the smug canine just grinned. Her reprimand ineffective, Taylor instead picked up the dirt-smeared book from the bed. Her brows furrowed as she looked over the contents. "...I don't think sushi is a breakfast food, Sunny."
Whine...
"And I don't have the stuff for this anyway. I've never made sushi."
Whiiiiine...
"AND you ruined my clothes. Why do you get a reward? ...no, don't give me that look— ugh, fine," Taylor sighed. "We'll have to go shopping, I guess... need to find sticky rice and a han— 'hangiri'? Whatever that is. Can I trust you to grab me something to wear that you won't get mud on?" Sunny's dog-smile was absolutely beatific. Taylor grumbled and left to brush out her hair.
* * *
"I should have known. 'Never trust a smiling dog.'" Sunny just smiled wider. Taylor relented and rubbed the wolf's ears. The canine had dug into the very depths of Taylor's closet until she found a long red skirt, buried in a plastic tote and forgotten, and then a loose white blouse to cover it. Taylor hadn't willingly worn bright colors in a year or more, let alone bright red or white. It was too eye-catching, and honestly too loose on her, but her attempts to switch the blouse for a different tee or even a hoodie had been met with lowered ears and a dirt-strewn paw, raised in warning.
The pair took the bus to the informally-acknowledged Asian district. Sunshine kept close to Taylor's skirts, and Taylor kept one hand on the wolf's shoulder, which easily nearly level with her waist. With such a pair, Taylor had expected there to be a bit more commotion, but people moved around them in an unbroken stream. After a while, Taylor relaxed her hold on Sunny, who grinned up at her.
"I don't think I've ever really come out here... and Dad did leave some extra allowance as an apology. What do you think, Sunny? Should we do some exploring?"
A few hours later, after they'd sampled some of the local street vendors (it's not really takeout, and this whole venture was turning into a day trip, anyway), and browsed the local wares ("Ooh, is that a calligraphy set? I think I'll— Sunny why do we need that much ink?"), they stopped to rest at a small tea-shop. Taylor tried green tea for the first time, and gave Sunshine an affectionate ear-rub as she sipped at it.
"Okay, I was skeptical, but— this was a good idea, Sunny. I'm glad we came. Honestly, I'm not sure why I never really came out here before, this place is pretty—"
There was a sudden BOOM from outside, followed by shouts and screams. Sunny's head whipped up, and Taylor heard her growl. The wolf tugged on Taylor's skirts, herding her to leave the shop as the sounds of violence intensified. Right— she never came out here because it was too close to the ABB/E88 border. Taylor needed no further urging. She picked up her purchases in one hand and her skirts in the other, and ran.
"Sunny, go left, we can get back onto 58th, and— Sunny? Sunny?!" The wolf was nowhere in sight. Taylor reversed direction, back towards the sounds of gunfire. Her friend was here, she had to be, she must have gotten turned around or frightened or please let her be okay please please please.
Taylor pushed around the remains of the crowd, abruptly stumbling into an open stretch of street, and directly into the path of someone else. He wasn't tall, but he was solid, and Taylor rebounded off the stranger and fell to the pavement. The man turned: a crimson mask with green stripes leered down at her, the tusked face of a demon. Taylor felt all the air vanish from her lungs. She stared up at the cape, silenced. The cape stared back.
"Miko?" Came a rough voice, rusty and sullen with disuse. Oni Lee's hand rose, the motion almost hesitant. "...Sumimasen."
He vanished in a sprinkling of ash. Taylor sat there a little longer, until Sunny trotted up and licked her cheek in apology.
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Kratez
Lucky Mage Leona-Chan!
- Location
- Slothville, Lazyia
- Pronouns
- They/Them
WOOOOOOO UPDATE!
Interesting... Probably foreshadowing as to what Taylor will be in the future.
- Location
- In the depts of despair.
It also tell us that Lee is actually a religious man, religious enough to act with decency.
- Location
- Florida
I can't help but want Oni-Lee to be important somehow, too bad he's practically an automaton. I blame the part of me that wants to see Neighbor Lung, or Uncle Jack, or Cousin Riley again. Or in this case Lee the Miko's helper or something like that.
Wonderful chapter. Poor Danny, Taylor is unhappy and saying some things she regrets saying. And it leads to sad Danny.
Wonderful chapter. Poor Danny, Taylor is unhappy and saying some things she regrets saying. And it leads to sad Danny.