Hello. My name is Nanami. Momozono Nanami. I'm a Land God. Or—I used to be. I suppose I'm a normal girl now. A girl who: doesn't have a home, doesn't have a family and, most importantly, just lost the connection to everything that has happened in the past year.
Dark brown hair slides against my cheeks as I open my eyes and sit up too quickly. I wince at the sudden sharpness of a head rush. When the haze clears I find myself in a room with tatami mats laid down. To my right, there is a door open to the courtyard. Outside there are birds chirping and the peaceful chime of a miniature bell in the wind. Guess messing with time didn't change my location. Fingers clutch the blankets unconsciously. The fabric has an unfamiliar texture… I turn my undivided attention to this and stare sadly at the flesh on one of my palms. Hands that had been calloused by a year's worth of hard work have softened back up. My ownership of the Shrine, as well as my meeting with Mikage must have been erased. Am I the only person now who knows what has really happened these past four seasons?
A soft tap on the door that is not open to the outside world stole my gaze away and Mikage himself walked carefully into the room, carrying a tray with two cups of tea placed on either side of a kettle.
"You're awake. Thank goodness." The man settles himself down comfortably on the tatami, putting the tray on the ground. The glass chinks as they rub up against each other. "Would you like a cup?" That expression on his face, no matter how familiar it was to me, was nothing but a show of kindness for a stranger.
I nodded and he wrapped feminine fingers around the handle of the kettle and gracefully poured a half-full cup of tea. When he was finished, he picked up the mug and handed it to me. I took it graciously, welcoming the warmth as a wisp of steam swirled into the atmosphere. "Pardon my intrusion," I spoke glumly, "and thank-you."
"It was no trouble on MY part." He said, smiling as I tipped the cup to my dry lips. "You're quite welcome." Mikage did not move to touch the remaining cup. I didn't mind. He waited until I put the empty cup back on the tray and folded my fumbling fingers into my lap. Then he spoke again, not a hint of hesitation in his knowledgeable eyes. "You have bruises all over you. Care to tell their story?" I tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear and searched for words.
"Sir, I—" He cut me off before I could make up some lie that would let him know I wasn't in the mood to tell him anything.
"Please. Call me Mikage."
"Mikage…" Surprisingly, I didn't choke here. I could feel the raw emotion spinning in my stomach, however. I wondered briefly if the tea had an anti-anxiety substance within it. My decision to keep quiet was brushed away. "I don't know where to start…"
He nodded with a perceptive expression on his face. He reached a flat hand out to pat reassuringly on my wrist. The tap was so subtle… Any human hand would have sent pain surging through my body. Not Mikage's. A gentle touch only bestowed a refreshing tingle on the area he had made contact with.
"All stories have a beginning, middle and end. Although many of us are anxious to see how a conflict or situation will turn out in the middle, we are more attracted to the end. Alas, the end is a foul player in the game of life. So malicious is he that he often toys with a person's mind and makes them feel helpless in any and every situation. The beginning on the other hand, is the sweetest of the siblings. That being said—why don't you start from the very beginning?" I had listened quietly and now I wiped my eyes, drying the tears that had not yet been shed. Should I tell him? What if it were better for me to pretend that it, ALL of it, was just a very vivid dream? What if he didn't believe me?
It was as if I had spoken the inquiry causing me internal conflict aloud. His voice snapped me back to reality. Two puny syllables was all it took.
"Try me."
So I told him. From when I got kicked out of my house due to my father's incapability to keep money in for purposes other than gambling to the day I went to Izumo. I told him about Himemiko and her love for Kotaru and the Dragon King whose eye had been inside me. I rambled on about Mizuki and his incense burner that sent me back to the past. I confessed my jealousy towards Yukiji and my meeting with Akura-ou. But mostly, I spoke of Tomoe.
Oh, I could go on forever about Tomoe. I tried to keep it brief. I really did. By the end, Mikage had finished his own cup of tea that I had failed to see him pour.
"Do you think what you did was right?" He finally asked. That same unfazed look was plastered on his features.
I didn't answer for a while. But I knew what my reply was going to be all along. It was still hard to say it out loud without my eyes filling to the brim with tears. Mikage waited. Patiently. Quietly. I looked down. My hands were shaking.
"Yes."
His eyes closed behind his glasses just as my own did. The only sound was that small bell outside.
A scream interrupted the silence. It wasn't filled with horror. It wasn't a cry for help. It was a scream of a broken heart. It startled me to find that I was the one who sent it out. That desperate plea for the pain in my chest to subside. Was that truly the sound of my heart shattering? My trembling hands were clutching at my chest. As if that would keep the emotional organ from breaking.
The sound apparently brought surprise to others as well. Footsteps pounded in the narrow hallway and came to a stop beside my room. The door was shut. Mikage's lashes fluttered upwards and his hand went to the side swiftly. I did not see it. My jaw was parted. My eyes were squeezed shut. This time a silent scream tore through me. My spine quaked uncontrollably. Tears rolled past my chin. They fell into my lap. Some found their way to my lips, wetting them. They were salty.
Mikage's hand returned to his side. His voice was exactly what I needed to hear. Or close enough. My shoulders shook. My knuckles were white.
"Do not cry, Nanami. You are very brave. There are not many people who would risk their own life and give up what they believed to be their identity to save a friend." Now he got up, slid open the door and stepped into the hallway. He took with him the tray, kettle and two empty cups that he had brought in. He shut the door.
It took a good hour or so for me to calm down. By that time, my eyes hurt something terrible and my cheeks were raw. The sun was starting to set. Cicadas began their symphonies. Reluctantly, I heaved myself up from my bed and stumbled across the mats. I slid the door to the courtyard shut and began to undress. I put on the clothes that were sitting beside my bed. Then a thought struck me. Mikage had told me his name. Yet I had never, not once, told him mine.
A sort of energy pulsed through me and suddenly I was scrambling towards the door. 'Do not cry, Nanami.' Nanami. The last time I had told someone my name… I flung the door open, re-gathered my composure, stood straight and closed it softly behind me. I was short of breath as I made my way to the kitchen. A delicious smell filled my senses and I lost the train of thought that had caused butterflies to flutter uncomfortably in my stomach. Hushed, hurried voices were exchanging dialogue. I tried to hasten into the room without appearing suspicious. When I came into view Mikage, strangely, was alone. I had half expected Onikiri and Kotetsu to be there. But without a piece of a youkai, like a tengu's feather… I wouldn't be able to make contact with them. It was a lost cause to even think about them. On the table was a small hand mirror and an elaborately decorated kerchief.
"Leaving?" The man with glasses asked innocently. My abdomen answered him angrily before I could open my mouth. I blushed and withdrew a little. "Oh-ho. Let me treat you to dinner before you go." I bit my lip as he got up from his seated position and moved to grab a plate for me.
"Did you cook this?" I questioned hesitantly. His answer was to the point, without a pause.
"No no. I do not require human food as you have learned in the past." He came back over and placed the food in front of me. I didn't eat much at first—but the taste was familiar and my weakened body would not accept the horrid idea of fasting just yet.
"Thank-you for the meal." I put my utensils down and closed my eyes.
"I will tell the chef that you liked it." He smiled kindly.
"Thank-you Mikage." His expression did not change as he spoke.
"For what?" I had the answer instantly.
"For taking care of me now and then. For providing me a family. For making me happy, if only for a year. It meant… It meant a lot to me." He did not reply.
At that time I reached unconsciously to my pocket and found that what my body was looking for… wasn't there. Panic swept over me. My fingers searched through the folds, checking every possible place. No! No, no, no… Could I have dropped it? In the present or the past? My most precious keepsake, it wasn't with me!
"Is everything all right?" The truthful concern on Mikage's face sent me to my feet.
"The hairpin Tomoe gave me. It's not here!" I felt like crying all over again. If Tomoe had never been a familiar for Mikage shrine, he would have never bought the pin in the first place, would he?
I wouldn't believe it. My feet pounded against the floor as I tore back into the room I had woken up in. I went to work instantly, searching in vain for what I knew was not there. If Tomoe had never come to Mikage Shrine covered in blood, Mikage would not have taken him in as a familiar. If Tomoe had never become a familiar, Mikage wouldn't have left the Shrine. Then I wouldn't have become a Land God—I wouldn't have performed Kagura or held a festival. That hair ornament would never been given as a gift. It would still be in the craftsman's drawer. Still being covered with dust and still rusting with age.
I stopped my panic now. I set down the pillow I had snatched up and looked down at my hands. I suppose this is the reason as to why I did not care to hear faint footfalls from the hall. That—or their owner was too careful. Too light on his feet. A soft rapping on the door did not raise my hopes. I had lost what was most precious to me and it would never be my own again.
"Come in…" I sighed finally, trying to put everything back neatly . "I'm sorry Mikage; I was looking for something." I bit my lip as I continued to stare at the tatami. My wrist went up to my eyes and I rubbed roughly to push those tears back in. It would do me no good to cry. I knew that. "But it's definitely not here."
A soft chuckle echoed through the silence that had fallen after my last words.
The vibrancy of the sound was a promise to color a grayscale world. At first, I didn't recognize it's potential. It seemed to be that the world was mocking my trials. Mocking my attempts to put one tiny piece of the shattered puzzle back into place. It was cruel but I did not question it. It was not until the visitor's voice filled the area that I slowly raised my head.
"How troubling." The door slid shut with a soft click. "To think that every time I see you, you have tears in your eyes." Now I turned. Wide, dark eyes looked unbelievingly at the guest in the doorway. My mouth opened but no sound came out. "Mikage said you were searching for something precious to you." He neared. His long hair fell luxuriously over his shoulders, cascading down his back. It seemed that the moon herself had lent her milky waves to the strands, bathing them with starlight. His kimono was an elaborate design, with camellia's and swallowtail butterflies. The base color was black, which contrasted with his silver hair. In his left hand was the same kerchief that I had seen on the table next to the hand mirror.
The hand mirror! That's why I had heard voices in the kitchen. That's why Mikage was alone. The youkai had retreated into the mirror. Yellow eyes bore into my heavy heart as I put the pieces together. "Did you find it?"
At some point in time, my legs discovered their strength. I shakily stood up and stumbled towards him. My arms outstretched in his direction. When cold hands found the folds of his garment I clutched at it for all it was worth. I buried my face in his chest and inhaled deeply. That scent welcomed me back to a Paradise I thought had been erased forever from my map. His own pale arms engulfed my form. One of his palms rested on my skull. His long fingers danced through my hair. The kerchief slipped from his other hand and tumbled to the floor. This was the only sign that time was passing. Unfolding in midair, it revealed the object I had been fervently searching for not moments ago.
The hairpin hit the tatami mats loudly. Suddenly my words returned and my voice rose up to meet the silence.
"Yes." I gulped, just one word coming to answer his question. "Yes!" The statement was muffled by his clothes for I was trying to hold him even closer than what I knew was possible. His arms returned the same awareness of longing. The same sensation of relief. This let me know that he had the same pressure as I did of a famished heart in his chest.
He caressed the chocolate waves of my hair gingerly, sighing. "Me too."
There is an ancient proverb that states that there is an invisible red thread that connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of the time, the place or the circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle… but it will never break.
I used to dismiss this as mere folklore. Something for lovers to place their hopes on. However—now that I have been through time, now that I have seen the importance of chance meetings, now that I have risked it all to save someone very important to me; I understand.
Hello friends! Now that you have finished my first fanfiction on this wonderful site, please tell me what you think! Feedback from your reviews will help me decide whether or not to continue writing (as it does take time), what you are looking for in my writing, and if I successfully portrayed the characters. Should there be any troubles or concerns, please do tell! Constructive criticism is a wonderful thing.
Note about the story: Yes, I did leave out quite a few things. I am practicing suspense writing for my class and this was a test run. Suspense is not my forte and I think that for a story to be lasting, the writer should keep some things to him/herself. In this case, I have hinted that Mikage does not require human food. Knowledge from the manga should support you with the detail that Kotetsu and Onikiri, the two small shrine demons, cannot cook. The only one in the shrine that ever made food was Tomoe himself. How Mikage knew Nanami's name is another detail I conciously abandoned. Mikage, to me, has always had an air of wisdom about him. He is someone who knows everything but lets others explain it/ figure it out themselves.
Again thank-you for reading!
Characters & Settings are copyright to Suzuki Julietta