This is the original version of the opening post, preserved for historical reference, in as close to its initially-posted state as possible. (Such as reverting the ring color descriptions to their first-draft names.) You may find what replaced it here.
You are dead, well before your time. You remember why, vaguely; an accident. You'd looked both ways before crossing the road, but a car screamed out of nowhere and mowed you down too fast to evade. Now you're sitting in the graveyard where you've been buried, staring at your own tombstone glumly. You were just a normal teenage girl, until this happened.
What is your name?
> Write-In
The funeral's over. You regained consciousness about halfway through the eulogy, standing up from the coffin to tell everyone you were fine. It didn't take long to realize they couldn't see or hear you, and you'd left your body behind. The service was an awkward affair after that; classmates who never gave you a second glance were suddenly singing your praises, while distant relatives struggled to find something relevant to say. When your parents took the stand it was a different matter; though the reality of the situation had yet to sink in properly, you still got teary-eyed at the idea of potentially never seeing them again. They were embarrassingly out-of-touch, to be sure, but always meant well. You're going to miss them more than you expected.
After that was the drive to the graveyard on the edge of town, and the burial. That was uncomfortable in a different sort of way, watching the coffin be lowered and dirt shoveled on top, knowing your body was in there. Were you supposed to stay in the coffin with it? That didn't quite seem right, but staying up top, watching from the edge of the crowd struck you as wrong too. Either way, it's done and over with now. Here you sit, alone, as the sun sets on the rows of tombstones.
But just as it slips beneath the horizon, something happens. An eerie mist billows from the trees, and from a doorway you suspect wasn't there a moment ago, a strange specter appears. "Are you the grim reaper?" you ask, somehow knowing you'll be heard this time.
"Not quite," the stranger says, which you suppose makes sense given their lack of robes or a scythe. "Rather, I am here to give you a job offer."
"Why me? I'm dead." On some level, you're alarmed by how calm you are about all of this.
The stranger's eyes shift to the side. "You meet the necessary criteria, and being dead means you'd theoretically have less to hold you back from taking the offer. I wouldn't do this under normal circumstances, but recruitment is at an all-time low. Living applicants have started turning the job down a lot more frequently in the past six or seven years; something about a 'bunnycat?' I've never even heard of such a thing before, and there's nothing untoward about the job itself, but there's this sudden strange level of suspicion involved that I just don't understand. I've still got a couple of others for this region who have expressed interest, but any sort of additional help is more than welcome."
"I see." You're not sure you understand any more than they do, but nod regardless. "What is the job?"
"Ah, sorry!" the stranger blushes, realizing their blunder. "It's… how would you like to become a Magical Girl?"
"A magical girl?" You cock your head, confused. "I consider just being a ghost pretty magical just on its own… also kind of spooky, really."
"A Magical Girl is a transforming warrior who protects humanity against the forces of darkness!" The stranger explains. "Unknown to the general population, you fight against all sorts of dark magical beings that seek to do harm."
"Oh, that kind of magical girl?" You remember watching some shows like that as a kid, but you haven't really given it much thought in years, and it's strange to think that it's actually real. Still... "I guess that would give me something to do…" Sure beats sitting around in a graveyard, moping all the time. "Fine, I'm in."
"If that works for you, yes." The stranger just seems relieved you accepted at all. They produce a cushion with several different-colored rings sitting on top. "Now to select from these. Choose the one that you feel the most… connection with." Holding your hand over them, you somehow sense an… attitude from each, for lack of a better word.
What kind of Magical Girl will you be?
> Red - Aggressive (High offense, low defense, medium versatility)
> Orange - Reliable (Medium offense, high defense, low versatility)
> Green - Creative (Low offense, medium defense, high versatility)
> Blue - Straightforward (High offense, medium defense, low versatility)
> Purple - Mysterious (Medium offense, low defense, high versatility)
> Pink - Peaceful (Low offense, high defense, medium versatility)
I have also taken the liberty of altering out any mentions of Sailor Moon in other updates, and have the original passages preserved here:
Sure, there's this whole 'magical girl' schtick that you remember just enough from those childhood anime reruns to understand the basics of, but the rest of the time? Sailor Moon still had to deal with school and homework and friends when she wasn't prowling the moonlight, but you… you're past all of that now.
Sure, there's this whole 'magical girl' schtick that you remember just enough from those childhood anime reruns to understand the basics of, but the rest of the time? The protagonists of Mystic Midnight Voyager Kairi may have flown off all over the world on their brooms every night, guided only by the moon and stars during the hidden thirteenth hour only they could experience... but once the sun rose, they all still had to return home to deal with school and homework and friends. You, however… you are completely unmoored; you are past all of that now.
"Uh… sure." Nervousness suddenly grips you, and you idly wonder if you should do some research on this stuff. Your Sailor Moon recollections are frustratingly vague...
"Uh… sure." Nervousness suddenly grips you, and you idly wonder if you should do some research on this stuff. Your Voyager Kairi recollections are frustratingly vague...
"Oh, that… I don't know, it just seemed like a cool codename. Like Sailor Moon has, or the Sentai Riders. Did you see my dress there? Fire? Ignite? Duh?"
"Oh, that… I don't know, it just seemed like a cool codename. Like the Sentai Riders have, or Enchantress Sinisteria eventually earned. Did you see my dress there? Fire? Ignite? Duh?"
There is simply too much to talk about. Where should you start? Where can you start? So much has changed, so many things revealed in the past few days, and it all bubbles up within you as if threatening to burst out in an incoherent stream of words. You only barely manage to keep your mouth shut and avoid hastily spouting complete nonsense. You're even tempted for a millisecond to just say that the world was secretly just an anime all along, before rejecting that thought.
Instead, you finally take a deep breath, banish the useless whirl of thoughts for a moment, and start with one thing. "So… Magic exists."
"Well, clearly," Kichirou snarks back, though he looks more awed than disgruntled by your apparently obvious statement. "I can't think of any other reason for what happened earlier, or how you're here now."
You nod, and feel yourself relax a little bit more. Despite everything, this feels… casual, like any ordinary debate about stupid semantics over dinner, and a far cry from the stress of talking to your new teammates earlier. You find it a little easier to shuffle your thoughts into some semblance of order, and you press on. "Magical Girls exist too," you gesture down at your dress, "and I am one now."
Kichirou wrinkles his nose. "What? That's way too dumb and girly."
You facepalm. "Girly? I am a girl."
"It's still dumb."
"And your 'sentai riders' aren't? At least this turned out to be real."
"...Okay, fine, got me there."
Silence falls for a moment, the two of you glaring at each other slightly, before he cracks a grin. "Maybe it can be a little cool, I guess, as long as there aren't too many sparkles. I'll wait until I see you in action to decide." You hope he won't have to, but keep that thought to yourself. The last thing you want is for him to get hurt, or worse.
That reminds you of the other elephant in the room, and you glance back down at yourself. "Magical Girls exist, as do ghosts. Which I also am." Despite the comfortable atmosphere, an echo of the hollow feeling from the funeral still lingers, and that admission makes you all the more aware of it.
Kichirou doesn't say anything to that, face falling, and you quickly move on. "And there's also werebears, apparently? Definitely not one of those." You're not sure that's really what Rina-san was, but right now it's the first thing that comes to mind. "Oh, and also aliens." You recall the talk with Nel about the other worlds that the Shades influence, and your silly image of an extraterrestrial in a tutu. In a way, it occurs to you that the Shades themselves are also aliens, even if not what you would have expected.
Mental tangents aside, you're glad to see that lightened the mood a bit again. "A werebear? Did you fight one?" You suppress a wince, unwittingly recalling the distressing sound of Miho getting slapped down.
"...Yeah. We sent her running, too!" You don't think of yourself as a particularly egotistical person, but your pride does feel a bit more bruised over it than you realized until now. Technically, despite how poorly it all went, Rina-san did flee in the end, right? That totally counts. For sure, yep.
If Kichirou notices your plastered-on bravado, he doesn't comment. "Aliens… Do they like, abduct and probe people or something?" Putting his hands to his forehead, he wiggles a pair of fingers like antennae, adding a series of silly mouth noises and "beep boop, neener neener"s, and you giggle loudly. You just as quickly shut up, conscious of the noise, but laughter still shakes you into a slumped position. It feels… nice.
Finally sitting back upright, you shake your head with a lingering grin. "Not exactly, no. Really, one of them was the one who offered me this job. Magical Girl, uh, Kikuko, protector of this city!" He rolls his eyes again, and you stick your tongue out at him.
After a moment he suddenly sobers up. "Are… are they trustworthy?" You give a noncommittal hum, but nod after a moment. Nel, at least, feels too airheaded to have any ulterior motives, and the explanation of the Shades' history yesterday has mostly appeased any doubts you might have had before. Something still feels a little off, and the hospital nurse flashes in your mind, but you push that away. Midori will be looking into it tomorrow. So lost in these thoughts, you almost miss Kichirou's next question. "You said 'we'. There are other magical girls, right?" You nod again, tilting your head curiously. "Then are they… you know… deadorsomething, too?"
Ah. You close your eyes and sigh. "No, it's just… just me. My situation is quite specific." You find yourself trying to recall your first conversation with Nel, and the reasons they had given for approaching you, but so much else has happened since, that exchange is already a bit muddled in your recollection. Finally opening your eyes again, you simply shrug. "I just happened to be available, and… it lets me stick around."
This time, the melancholy silence lingers longer, before you can work up the courage to break it again. "At least when I'm in my Magical Girl form like this, I can interact normally with the world. Kind of attention-getting, really, but it's something. Otherwise, it's like when we 'talked' earlier."
It's your brother's turn to nod silently, chewing on his lower lip, before his brows furrow in discontent, tone curdling. "Then why didn't you say anything sooner?"
Your own frustration flares up in response, and you nearly snap back about how busy and overwhelmed you've been, dump everything you've had to deal with onto his shoulders and see how well he takes it. But you once again manage to hold yourself back, sinking back down into the chair, only now realizing you had leapt to your feet, and noticing the way your brother shrunk back.
Thankfully, rather than all of that, there is a much more convenient scapegoat for your ire. "Alien-san wants as much stuff kept under wraps as possible, for some reason. Can't tell the others that I'm a ghost, because that might make them look bad, and I wasn't supposed to talk to my family unless it became absolutely necessary."
Kichirou nods in understanding, looking mostly relieved, though he still raises an eyebrow at you. "But here you are."
You grin nervously with a slightly-too-shrill chuckle. "Yep. I uh… I, finally got permission? And here I am! Heh…" Your lie does not even convince yourself, and judging by the flat gaze you're met with, he sees through it too.
Then after a moment, he smiles wide and jumps up, and before you can blink, you're dragged into a tight, warm hug. "...Thanks, Nee-chan. I'm glad you talked to me anyway," he mumbles into the area of your collarbones.
Your stiff stance quickly melts, and even with your arms pinned at your sides, you find a way to return the embrace. Neither of you were especially inclined towards close contact like this, and you'll start getting uncomfortable if this lasts too long, but just this once you can make an exception. Exhaling, you lean your chin on the top of his head to hide your fond grin, and feel a little piece of that hollowness from before fill back up. For someone you were never too eager to spend time with before, you suddenly realize just how much you've missed him these past few days.
"Brrr, you're freezing!"
Thankfully, the hug ends before it can get weird, and you giggle teasingly at his exaggerated shivering, rubbing his hands together to warm them again. (With Miho's lack of complaints about the cold when you were helping to carry her, you have to wonder just what's happening here. The first place your mind goes is your old Yuki-onna costume from last year; could this be some new side-effect of being a ghost? Or perhaps your newfound ice powers are to blame; you are transformed right now, after all, though why hasn't this happened until now? Maybe you should just move on, rather than overthinking things. You need to stop thinking about this now. Stop it.)
Sitting back down much more gently this time, you lean your head back a bit. You're still not sure how much more you want to tell him, or how much you should, really, but there's a relief in having gotten this far. Nel may not approve if they knew, but it isn't without a little spiteful satisfaction that you resolve not to inform them what you've done. More importantly… You have some of your family back, in a way. Even if you are… a ghost, you are not gone, are you?.
Ghostly tears drip from your face, and yet your cheeks could almost hurt from how wide you're smiling.
Suddenly, a loud knock on the door startles you out of your feelings, and you nearly detransform on instinct before remembering the door is locked. Instead, you glance back to Kichirou, who seems just as frazzled, but makes no moves to open up. "What is it?" He finally squeaks. "This isn't a great time!"
"It's me," comes the other voice. Your father, Naruhito Yukimura. "Your mother and I have been talking about this weekend, and while I wanted to tell you earlier over dinner, we didn't make up our minds until just now. May I come in?"
Kichirou glances at you, and you hold up a finger for him to wait. Quickly picking your way across his messy floor to a far corner, you nod at him before detransforming. He stares at you in shock for a few moments more, but before you can start to worry that you're still visible, he hurries to the door to unlock it. "Toh-san, what's going on?" Kichirou asks while ushering him in.
Your father sits down heavily in the seat you just vacated, shivering briefly and subsequently frowning, before writing it off. "Given… what's happened, I realized that I have…" He pauses, giving you time to notice his crumpled business clothes, and a few grey strands (dull and flat, as opposed to the gleaming silver you and Mom share) in his short black hair that you don't remember being there before. His voice is low and quiet as always, but something about it is heavier, more exhausted, than you have ever heard it before, and his blue eyes are dull and downcast. Your soul aches at the sight. "We have not spent as much time together as a family as I would wish for in recent years, and that is largely my fault."
Your brother slumps back down onto his futon, nodding mutely.
"I still need to decide exactly how to balance my responsibilities at work with spending more time at home, and I have been… considering something, since even before last week. It isn't usually done, and I do not know what may come of this, but I may end up requesting a demotion back to my old position." You gasp, unheard. You half-remember many dinner discussions from several years ago; he had worked long and hard for his current promotion in the first place, and mixed feelings roil within you at this new admission. Kichirou looks just as shocked as you feel, but father merely gives a wry grin in response. "I don't care if that impacts my reputation in the company; I want to prioritize the important things in my life, like your mother, and you. While I still have them."
You slump back into the corner, sinking down until your chin rests on your knees. The morose mood is suffocating, too thick to even cut.
But finally, he cracks another, more genuine smile. "But all of that is long-term business. For the short term, what we can do is take a weekend vacation. Just the fo-er, three of us. You, me, and your mother, to get out of the city for a bit and get our heads on straight. We also still need to figure out whether to take condolence leave with our workplaces and your school, but for now, this is the plan."
Kichirou's eyes flicker toward your corner, but he quickly focuses back on his guest. "...What if I want to stay?" Father seems confused by his reluctance; you have no idea how to feel about any of this at all. "This just seems like pretty short notice, is all."
Your father sighs. "It is, but we didn't settle on this sooner, and I did not want to give you false expectations before we decided one way or another. I am sorry for springing this on you, but I really do think this will be good for us all."
Kichirou shrugs reluctantly, looking troubled. "I guess. Then in that case… What time are we leaving?"
"Before noon, if all goes well. We will all have to spend the morning packing, but I want to be on the highway before the lunch rush, so we can arrive in the mid-afternoon. We can spend tomorrow evening and most of Sunday sight-seeing or just relaxing, before driving back that night." Standing back up, Naruhito claps his hands once. "So if you want enough time to get your things together, bedtime should be soon. I know your teachers have assigned light homework, you can take care of that in the car tomorrow. Whatever else you are doing right now, should be finished shortly."
"Alright, alright, you got it, Otoh-san." Kichirou grumbles in annoyed resignation. You can't help but crack a small grin at the familiar tone, grateful for the levity. You are suddenly very glad that you didn't push off talking to him until later.
The two of them briefly hug, before your father heads back to the door. Before leaving, he turns back one last time. "I hope you know that I love you. Both of us do." With your brother standing almost between you and him, you can almost imagine that he's looking your way, that you're being addressed as well. He shuts the door behind him, Kichirou locks it again, and the room blurs with tears.
~~~ .oO◯Oo. ~~~
It takes a full ten minutes for you to finally pull yourself together again and retransform, startling your brother with the sudden flash of purple light. You wordlessly make your way back across the room and not so much hug him as drape yourself over him, and he seems to understand why, quietly, literally supporting your limp figure as you let out lingering sniffles and tears.
Once your frigid contact becomes too much, he taps your arm, and you shuffle back to the chair to fall into it. Unlike the unexpected frost you left for your father, there is a warmth in the cushions left over for you, and you take comfort in it before it is soon overpowered by your deathly cold again. There is probably a metaphor in that, though you swiftly reject following that thought any further.
For his part, Kichirou busies himself with digging around in his closet, presumably for the small rolling travel suitcase buried somewhere very deep within. You notice him taking occasional glances back at you, though, and you're not sure whether he's checking on you, or checking to make sure you're still there at all. Most likely both. He doesn't say anything, and neither do you, the silence stretching wide and heavy. It feels like a dense cloud has rolled into the room, simply looming over you both without breaking into rain.
Finally finding a handle and hauling his suitcase from beneath a big pile of assorted junk, Kichirou speaks up at last. "Will you tell them too?"
You slump down further. "I…" You don't know. You hadn't even thought of it too much, and if you're perfectly honest with yourself, have been trying your hardest to think about everything but that as long as you could. Even the thought of whether to approach your brother hadn't quite crossed your mind until seeing him at the bookstore, and instinct took over then. You're glad for what's come of it, but somehow your parents feel like a different thing entirely to worry about. It's awful to see them hurting like this, but… you don't want to hurt them even more, either.
Indistinct thoughts and possibilities you can't quite put the right words to spin endlessly in your head, and in the end you just pull your knees up to bury your face in them. The thick white leather and black laces of your long boots feel weird against your forehead, reminding you of your transformation, and the whole other set of reasons to hesitate. And still yet, you miss them both so much it aches.
Kichirou speaks up again, sounding a little impatient now. "If you want to go tell them right now, I'll be here with you. Otherwise, it's two, probably three whole days before you get another chance. I get you had your reasons for waiting to tell me, but this past week was… it felt like nearly six years, not six days."
You lift your head just slightly, enough to peer over the tops of your knees at him with a frown. "I'm sorry," you mumble, "for all of… that. I just… but I don't…" You sigh. The right words refuse to come together, a blizzard raging inside of you with flurries of half-formed feelings swirling every which way. Closing your eyes again, it occurs to you that perhaps instead of trying to understand them all at once, you just need to find one to follow.
What Do You Want?
> To Tell Them Now (You're already a mess and even more unprepared than with Kichirou, but maybe you really should just rip off the bandaid while the opportunity is here. Making them wait could be too much. Whatever it was you promised to Death can wait another night.)
> To Wait Until Later (Maybe telling Kichirou sooner was good for him, but you don't know that the same will apply to your parents. Let them have their vacation to figure things out, and hopefully buy yourself the time to be better-prepared as well, and then try to find a good opportunity once they've come back. Kichirou will have to survive the weekend without saying what he knows, but you won't make him wait too much longer than that. In the meantime, you have a corrupted spirit to defeat.)
> Not To Tell Them At All (There's a part of you that worries that no matter the timing, revealing yourself to them would do more harm than good. They might not even believe you, and even if they do, you won't be coming back to life. They already lost you; it would be too cruel not to let them grieve properly. And with your new duties, you can't guarantee against them losing you all over again if something goes wrong.)
> To Abstain From Deciding (You still don't know what you want, but what you do know is that you've already committed to work with Death, and you don't intend to break that promise on the first real job she's given. You're not in a good state to be making big decisions about your parents right now; it's better to bury yourself in your work and come back to this when you've had more time to think. This may be kicking the problem down the road, perhaps, but despite feeling annoyed with yourself, you see no good point in breaking tonight's apparent streak.)
Narrator: Death
Ebenezer Scrooge: Masami Shimizu
Bob Cratchit: Midori Kazane
Tiny Tim: Nel
Jacob Marley: Miho Kasai
The Ghost Of Christmas Past: Kichirou Yukimura
The Ghost Of Christmas Present: Pallavi Varma
The Ghost Of Christmas Future: Kikuko Yukimura
Once upon a time, on a cold December morning -
Shimizu-san immediately awoke, seeing where her strange dream was going, and refusing to play along from the outset. The end.
Early on, I was talked into making a music post with some song recommendations relating to particular characters. Looking back on it now, it is... not very good. While some choices have remained the same, I no longer agree with some others, as certain characters have developed significantly since. More importantly, I felt most of the characters warranted more than just a single song to summarize them. So, I decided to redo it now, though this time only focusing on the magical girl team and adjacent characters; I may redo the villains as well at a later date. But like the first time, I have shuffled them out of order. Make of them what you will.
It also appears, rather inconveniently, that I am no longer allowed to include more than five embeds in a post, even when they were in spoiler boxes, so these will all have to be links instead.
Warning for bereavement, mild suicidal ideation, trauma, estrangement, and severe suicidal ideation.
"...I just want my o-ka'a-chan."
The words slip from your mouth before you've entirely realized it, catching your brother off-guard. "What?" He asks, turning back to you.
"I want to talk to ka'a-san," you mumble, and the flurries of chaotic thoughts in your head suddenly fall still. The one thing that you had been avoiding thinking about the most, the woman whose absence hurts like nothing else to the point that you had no choice but to shut her out of your mind completely, is suddenly and inescapably made clear before you. You can picture her so clearly now, as if standing amidst the now-settled snow on a clear night. Her tall and commanding figure that has never shown you anything less than absolute care; long, silver hair draped over her shoulders much like your own; framing warm reddish-pink eyes crinkled at the corners with mirth, twinkling like the stars overhead; and a patient, comfortable smile. Ruruka Yukimura, your mother.
You vaguely remember in elementary school, being picked on by other kids for being a mommy's girl, and yet you did not even realize until looking back later that it was meant to be an insult, instead always taking a certain quiet pride in it. She always gave you the space you needed, but she has also always been there for you in some way - a comforting presence to lean on, a strong and protective personality to hide behind when you were overwhelmed, an enthusiastic (if overly precise) teacher, and just, just… your mom.
Even as you grew up and realized the world was so much bigger than her, never did you entirely lose the sense that she still dwarfed the entire universe, and her role at the observatory was more akin to a queen cataloging her vast starry domain than the mere curious astronomer she would humbly diminish herself as. She was the one who had brought everyone up that mountain in the middle of a clear winter night to watch the Aurora Borealis, she was the one who you had shyly clung to on your first day of school, and she was the one you could always turn to when you needed or even just wanted. If your father was the yardstick against which other adults failed to reach, your mother was so impossibly beyond comparison that it would be unfair to even try.
You miss her. She is just down the hall, and you miss her so much.
Before your brother can even do anything, you find yourself on your feet, striding to the door and unlocking it without a single word. Any justifications or reasoning for or against talking to her are null, irrelevant; swept away and buried by the avalanche of pure feeling driving you forward. You barely register your brother's quiet "Good luck" as you leave, or the clattering sounds of your father's preparations from downstairs.
Past the top of the staircase, past the restroom and the home office, you walk down the short and darkened hall, a path at once so familiar and yet so surreal now, in your magical dress swishing softly against the hardwood floor. Reaching the door to your parents' room, you hesitate only a moment, before gently turning the handle and pushing the door open.
The room is pitch-black, blackout curtains pulled over the windows, and as you close the door again behind you, it takes your eyes a few moments to adjust to the darkness.
The first thing to make itself known is the pale green-white gleam of hundreds of glow-in-the-dark plastic stars affixed to the walls and ceiling (in exacting faithfulness to the positions of the real constellations, of course) twinkling at you. Their shine has not faded for the night yet, so you know she must have laid down to sleep just recently, likely while your father talked to Kichirou.
But even in that dim illumination, the pale silver of her hair on the dark pillows is unmistakable - even if it is cut much shorter than last you remember, styled into a bell-shaped bob rather than her original flowing locks like yours. A pang of pain spikes your heart at the reminder of why this must be, but you quickly suppress it to hesitantly step closer, rounding the corner of the futon and kneeling at her side.
You try to speak, but nothing comes out, just quietly gasping into the darkness. You feel at once overwhelmed and numb, too many thoughts and feelings at once at an impasse and straining to be let out, yet all blanketed and muted in a thick layer of grey snow. Yet despite all of that, there is still the undeniable fact of who lays there asleep before you.
Only half-asleep, you realize, as white lashes flutter open; even in the low light, her pink eyes are vivid and clear as they turn to focus on you. You must be nothing more than a silhouette in her vision right now, and yet the recognition is immediate. "Ki… kuko-chan?" She murmurs in disbelief, and an arm reaches out from under the covers to cradle the side of your face. You immediately lean into the contact, holding the back of her hand with your own, tears dripping again at the warmth of her touch.
"I'm here," you finally manage to say. "I'm here, o-ka'a-chan."
She blinks tears from her eyes, but slowly lifts herself into a sitting position, propping up her pillow against the wall to lean back against as she stares with dull, clouded eyes, taking in the sight of you before her yet struggling to comprehend. Extracting her other arm from the blankets, she slowly reaches forward, gently pulling you closer and wrapping you in a tender, crushing hug. "Kikuko-chan…" She whispers. "My dear daughter. What… what are you doing here?"
"I came back to see you again. I missed you so much." You let yourself fall limp, curling up against her side as you sink into the embrace, hearing the beating of her heart and feeling wet tears in your hair. Her arms are around you, her face is pressed into the top of your head, and you feel finally, completely safe. Nothing the past few days have thrown your way can hurt you now, because your mom is here. "I love you, o-ka'a-chan."
"I love you, Kikuko-chan," she responds. "I miss you everyday." A convulsing sob tears itself from you, but she is there, softly shhhing and rubbing your back, petting your hair, brushing the pain away. The hollowness from before that talking to your brother filled a part of, now feels nearly whole. You want this moment to last forever.
"...I know this is just a dream," she finally admits, "I know that this isn't real. This can't be real. You… I lost you already. But even if it is just a dream, then… maybe I don't want to wake up."
A stab of cold pierces your heart, eyes snapping back open. "No," you whimper. "I'm here. I'm really here, I promise."
Mom just shakes her head sadly. "I wish you could be. But please, don't say anything, let me pretend a little longer."
"You don't have to pretend," you insist, dragging yourself back upright to meet her gaze. "I'm really here. I'm really here! Please!" More tears fill your vision, but they burn ice cold this time. Mom's breath becomes mist, yet you barely even notice, trying to stare deep into her eyes even as she turns her head to look away in sudden discomfort.
"It's impossible," she whispers, voice heavy with grief, "You're gone, my Kikuko-chan is gone, and once I wake up I'll need to live with that. Why can't you let me forget even here?" She's barely even talking to you now, continuing to avert her gaze, and looking smaller than you ever thought possible. "Why can't I let myself…?"
A renewed sob breaks loose from you, as you pull yourself free from her arms, drawing her eyes back to you. Falling over her, crying uncontrollably now, you grab her shoulders and grip as tightly as you can, desperate to make her feel how real you are. "You don't have to pretend, you don't need to live with that! I'm right here! I was gone, but I'm back now, please believe me! Please stop being so rational, and just trust what's here! Because I'm here!" You are begging and sobbing, all the comfort of before turning into pain. You're begging and you feel so, so cold; and for the first time it bites deep into you, frigid and cruel instead of familiar and comforting. "I'm right here, and I'm real! You're awake already, please believe me!"
"Stop," she gasps, suddenly afraid. "You're hurting me! You're not- Who are you? Stop it, let me go!"
She struggles to push you away, grabbing your wrists to try to pull you off, but your grip is too tight. The cold spreads out of your hands, wreathing her shoulders in frost. Even wracked with sobs, you can't let yourself let go, not now. "I'm right here! I'M RIGHT HERE, I'M STILL HERE!" You can't see through your tears anymore. You can't see and you're screaming now, voice broken and shrill, uncaring if you're heard; desperate to be. "KA'A-SAN,PLEAAASE!!!"
And everything feels so cold.
You feel an abrupt impact in your chest, and blink away sudden stars to find yourself lying prone on the opposite end of the room. Mom has her leg still raised after freeing it from her blankets, the two of you staring at one another in shock. Distantly, you note that her torso and upper arms are covered in white frost, some even reaching up her neck. "Who… are…" Her leg drops back down, and she shivers violently for a few moments before falling limp, eyes drifting shut again.
Somehow, you don't know how, you muster up just enough focus to detransform, before rushing back over to her. "No, no, nononononono…" you whimper, frantically brushing at her sleepwear, uselessly trying to whisk the frozen moisture away as if that will fix any of this. "Please wake up, I'm sorry, I didn't want to hurt you, I'm sorry, please just, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry sorry sorry sorry just please be okay-"
The door slams open, making you jump; Naruhito stands imposingly in the doorway, light from the hall spilling in and casting his shadow over you and your mother. "I heard screaming, what's wrong?" He demands, breath hitching as he takes in the sheets kicked away and her crumpled, half-frozen figure. Kichirou peeks out from behind him, still absentmindedly holding onto a rolled-up shirt he must have been packing, but becoming wide-eyed at the sight before him.
You know they can't see you, but hunched over your mother like this, you feel incriminated, like some feral monster caught in the act of slaughtering livestock.
You back away on all fours, scuttling into a far corner as your father half-marches over, half-sinks to his knees in the same spot you had just vacated, pressing a hand against her forehead. "Get some blankets from the downstairs closet, right now," he orders, "We need to warm her up immediately."
Your brother's still stuck in place, staring in horror, but jolts back to awareness after a sharp "NOW!" Scanning the room before he leaves, even as his gaze sweeps unseeing right past you, you are unable to miss the fear and betrayal in his eyes.
Stilling his trembling hand, your father puts two fingers to Mo- to Ruruka's neck, going still for several breathless moments. Then he slumps in relief, and unseen, you do the same.
The moment Kichirou returns with a stack of blankets, the two of them set to work wrapping her up snugly, before your father scoops her up into a bridal carry and stands. "The thermostat must have had a glitch," he reasons out briskly, "It felt cold in your room earlier, too. Let's take her downstairs where it's warmer, can you make some hot tea? Or no, maybe hot chocolate. If she doesn't wake up soon, we may have to call the hospital."
Kichirou just nods mutely, stepping aside to let them pass, and casting another suspicious glance back at the futon, though you notice him still trembling as well. "...What happened? Why would you… Why did you do that?" He asks the empty room, but you can't bring yourself to reappear. Not now. And so he leaves.
You sit there, still as a statue, light still spilling in from the hall to starkly illuminate the rumpled blankets like a spotlight on a crime scene. Your head is blank. Your heart is empty. All the whirling, overwhelming thoughts and feelings of before are completely gone now, everything erased by sheer disbelief, or perhaps lack of comprehension, of just what happened.
Finally, numbly, you find your feet, barely registering your actions as you stumble your way out into the hall and down the stairs. It is indeed warmer down here, Ruruka huddled in her wrap of blankets at the dining table, Naruhito gently rubbing her back, in a horrible echo of when you saw them the first night after the funeral. But this time, they're facing you; you can see the worry in your father's eyes, barely-concealed by a mask of stoicism, while Mo- while his wife leans back against him, head lolling in unconsciousness. A glance around the corner into the kitchen reveals Kichirou dutifully pulling down a box of instant hot chocolate, expression unreadable.
You stand alone in the living room again, feeling like an intruder.
Finally, she blinks awake again, looking around the dining room in vacant confusion, before glancing up at her husband. "What… why are we down here?" She asks. "Why is it so chilly?"
"Your room was freezing; I think something went wrong with the heating systems," he answers. Kichirou growls under his breath, unnoticed by either of them. "Though I thought I also heard yelling, did something happen?"
Ruruka frowns, clutching her arms closer to her chest, and wincing in pain when a heavy fold of her blanket wrapping lands on her shoulder. "I think… I had a nightmare. It was about…" She sighs heavily, voice going quiet. "It was about Kikuko-chan."
BANG
Kichirou has a tight grip on the mug he'd just slammed down onto the counter, knuckles going white from the force of his grip, but he simply waves off their concerned gazes. "I'm fine, it's not broken," he grumbles. "Just heavier than I expected." Neither looks convinced by the obvious lie, given the mug he chose is in fact quite small, but they don't press him on it.
Ruruka takes a moment to recollect herself before finishing. "She came to me at first, and for a moment it was like I had my daughter back. But then…" She chokes back a sob. "But then she turned into something else, some kind of phantasm, a-and screamed garbled nonsense at me as I became frozen. It was… terrifying."
Rubbing away tears, she leans against Naruhito again. "But it was just a nightmare, and I'm… okay enough now. It must have been from the room turning so cold, that's all. I'll be fine. Though we will really have to get someone in to look at the heater; do you still have that list of…"
She's okay. Her rambling continues in the background, but you pay it no more attention, relief flooding through you and turning your knees weak, wavering in place. She's really okay, and thinks it was just a nightmare, and you didn't…
You could have killed her.
Your relief drains away as quickly as it arrived, and now you really do fall to the floor, legs splayed out on either side as the weight of guilt finally comes crashing down on you in full. She's fine, but she might not have been, if she hadn't kicked you away in time. What were you doing? Why couldn't you just let her think it was a dream? Echoes of your earlier desperation linger in the corners of your mind, but now they feel alien, incomprehensible, disgustingly selfish even. You didn't kill her, but you could have, all because you lost control of your powers and lost control of yourself trying so hard to get her to just listen. The more you think about it, the more you find yourself agreeing with the betrayal in your brother's eyes.
Finding your feet again, you take one last glance at the tableau before you; Mom at the table, your father at her back as always, your brother delivering a freshly-brewed hot chocolate to warm her back up. And then with a few stumbling steps backward, you turn away, phasing through the front door without even registering it, and run out into the road. With feet pounding on pavement and a fresh wave of freezing tears streaming from the corners of your eyes, you flee as far as you can.
~~~ .oO◯Oo. ~~~
You don't so much come to a halt as fall into it, tripping on something in the nighttime darkness and skidding across the ground. You don't bother to get back up, or even lift your head to see where you are. It doesn't matter.
You don't even have it in you to chuckle at the paradox of wanting to die when you already have.
You don't know how far you are, how much time has passed since you started running, nor since you stopped. Time blurs into meaninglessness, and it could be anywhere between a half-hour or an eternity. All that registers is the cascade of self-loathing and guilt and longing and shame and emptiness and pain and cold. It's probably good that you're not transformed anymore, because otherwise wherever you are would surely be engulfed in another circle of ice and snow and cold and cold and cold.
What you do know, without even having to open your eyes, is the moment Death arrives. The low, eternal bell tolling of her realm is hard to miss, even before you see the blood-red skies above.
She's sitting on an electrical box nearby, staring down at you with a morose expression, somewhat undercut by the way she appears sideways from your perspective on the ground. You don't dignify her presence with a greeting, let alone the effort of lifting your head. "Is… is this a bad time?" She finally asks.
"I hate you."
"I…"
"I hate you." You still don't move, but you inject as much venom and pent-up rage into your voice as you can muster. (It's not much, but it is better than nothing at all.) "I hate you so much."
"...I'm sorry."
"If you would've just taken me when you were supposed to, none of this would have happened." Even your anger runs out too soon, leaving your tone unfittingly conversational as you muster up whatever energy you have left to tear into her, tell her everything on your mind you've been suppressing ever since you first met her. "I could have just disappeared without all of this nonsense."
"I'm sorry."
"Nel-san could have picked their first choice, whoever it is that actually deserves this stupid magic ring. My family could have moved on in peace, without me stumbling back in and messing it all up for them. I don't want to have died, sure, but at least we could have committed to it properly, not this half-and-half… whatever the hell this is."
"I'm sorry."
"And…"
You know it's unfair. You know this isn't how things work, that she has no control over it, but the thought has been waiting in the back of your mind since your first meeting, and finally you're able to spit it out.
"And I hate you because I died in the first place!"
She opens her mouth to rebut, shifting on her high-voltage seat of choice, but finally she just nods. "I… am truly sorry."
You close your eyes again to shut out her pity. "I know you are. Why did you have to be so damn nice?"
She doesn't respond to that, and you don't particularly care why right now. The silence is strangely comfortable. More words would just break everything again, after all.
"...Can you at least take me now?"
"...Do you really want me to?" You hear a metallic swish, followed by the ticking of gears. Opening your eyes again, you see the shadow of her scythe on the ground before you, just past your outstretched hand. You could reach out and touch it so easily…
Instead, you close your eyes again. "...No. I need to find some way to fix this first."
"Understood." She sounds more relieved than she should, as another swish brings relative silence once more.
It's that admission; that realization, really, that finally gets you to clamber to your feet, despite the leaden feeling threatening to drag you back to the pavement. Still you refuse to meet her gaze, instead taking in your surroundings. Not too far from school, yet again; you must have followed the route by instinct. You're starting to get sick of it.
"So… how will you do that?" She asks.
"I don't know," you say. You really don't. But you need to do something if you're going to stick around, and the question at least gets you thinking.
What To Do? > Go Back Home (NO! Not yet. Not tonight.) (Maybe not ever.) > Go To The River (You need to understand how all of this happened. Maybe if you return to where this started last night, you can find some sort of enlightenment again. If not, at least it is a prettier spot to feel awful at.) (How was it only last night?)
> Go To The Town (You are sure Death was going to nag you about it before she saw you being pathetic. Even if she is not pushing you on it now, you may as well take out all your feelings on that stupid spirit. You are not a violent person, but you feel the need to hurt something right now.) (…Something that isn't your family, anyway.)
Did my own drawing of Kikuko, since we've only got one so far:
The flecks down her hair come from me being inspired by Arctic moth feathers. Likewise, those two strands sticking up on the top of her head aren't horns, they're inspired by Japanese snow rabbit sculptures (which usually use leaves). And you can see the snowflake design I was going for with the naginata. I didn't have purple and teal handy, but I still tried to lighten her dress and sleeves as they went along
I have little new progress on the update to report, but I have just finished my first contribution to the Somnia Virtua Magical Girl Crossover Project, found here. It is 4.5K words of Kikuko's perspective as she deals with a mercurial Princess, her troubled Lady-In-Waiting, an aggravating Jester, and more. More directly relevant, now that this is out of the way, I hope to finish the remainder of the update here without much further delay, as my prior writer's block seems to have been mercifully dislodged by writing that crossover installment.
While I do not have the next update ready as I had hoped for, I am happy to report that I making meaningful progress with it once more. In lieu of that, however, I have given the index post a significant restructuring; making the table of contents far more prominent, and making the cast list far more comprehensive.
(In the cast list, I have also created and edited some picrew images as visual reference for most of the main and supporting characters, since I cannot currently afford to commission more art. Most are still not as accurate as I would like them to be, but I hope that they will be a sufficiently interesting stopgap for the time being.)
And in the spirit of the holiday, please take a treat below.
