"If you must blink, do it now."
As his words echoed through the square, all heads turned to him. Even as the notes from his shamisen faded, he struck up a new tune, the paper swirling around him. "Pay careful attention to everything you see, no matter how unusual it may seem. If you look away - even for an instant - then our hero will surely perish." The townsfolk crowded around him as they listened eagerly.
The boy began to tell his tale, captivating his audience as they watched the paper come to life, folding to reveal exquisite battles, heroes, and monsters that fell apart as quickly as they came, flickering past their wide eyes. He drew the pick against his shamisen.
His music was filled with vitality, a wild energy. As all attention was drawn to him, and as all moved to him, a single girl was left behind, sitting quietly at the edge of the marketplace. Her face was hidden by the wide brim of a blackened straw hat, long dark hair streaming down her back. White hands emerged from a kimono that brushed her ankles.
The girl's feet swung a little as she stared at the crowd surrounding Kubo. She sighed, unheard beneath the boy's rich voice. Then, silently she eased herself off her perch, leaving unnoticed amidst the storytelling. As she vanished into a nearby street, Kubo's voice rose to a crescendo. "And the dragon rose into the air!" he cried. "Glowing a vicious blue, there was no escape. Our hero reached for the sword, desperate...
...and then took off his armor." A collective gasp arose from the townspeople. He continued, still strumming, "He tossed it all aside." Golden paper that had once been donned by the miniature boy now unfolded, collapsing at the hero's feet. "Instead, our hero took off his bracelets, mementos of his parents..." Kubo continued telling his story. The one he finally had an end to.
"He released his parent's souls into the river, where they could finally rest in peace." As Kubo strummed the last chord, the townspeople erupted into cheers. The old woman approached him, grinning from ear to ear. "You did good again," she praised him, cackling. Kubo laughed, ducking her attempts to ruffle his hair. He nodded, watching the people disperse. He was happy - recalling the past, even if it was sad, made him appreciate his time now.
Then he caught glimpse of a familiar figure. He squinted, staring. Then his eye widened. The boy took off, leaving the old woman behind. "Hey! Wait!" she called out, but amidst the growing sound of the marketplace she remained unheeded. Kubo sprinted past the traffic, skidding to a stop in the middle of the street. He turned, searching. Another glimpse of the figure was caught before he lost sight of her again, but he knew she was heading into the woods. He followed her, finally catching up.
"Hello, Kubo," the girl said, her head bent low. Kubo tensed, waiting, Although she was definitely smaller, he recognized her profile - it was exactly the same as his aunt's. "Who are you?" he demanded. The girl tilted her head, her hair swaying. Her voice carried an undertone of uncertainty as she replied, "But you followed me. Is that my fault?"
It was the reluctance, hesitance that confused the boy. Still cautious, he stepped forward, asking, "Are you afraid?" The girl shifted. As she looked up, Kubo gasped as he saw on her face a nearly exact replica of the mask on his aunt's - white skin with narrowed, dark eyes lined with dark shadows and red, pursed lips. He had no doubts - she was definitely connected to them in some way. He held his shamisen in front of him, ready to strum if necessary.
The girl saw the motion. "I'm sorry," she said carefully. The girl raised a hand to her face, pulling away the mask. Her skin was pale, but not as white as the skin he had once caught sight of around his aunt's mouth. Her eyes were a light hazel… no, her eye. Kubo hadn't noticed before, but when the girl had taken off her mask, her bangs had fallen forward, almost covering her eye patch.
Instinctively Kubo's eye was drawn to it. He spoke, horrified, "What happened to you?" The girl sighed. "Nothing more than what happened to you, cousin." Kubo took a step back. His eye narrowed. "Cousin?" The girl hesitated before saying firmly, "I seek my grandfather. You made him mortal, please, let me see him." The boy shook his head. "Wait," he said, "Why did you call me cousin?"
The girl tilted her head, seeming to think. "I believe," she said at length, "that one of my aunts was your mother? The one who became mortal?" Kubo stared at her. "Grandfather?" the girl prompted. Finally he began to lead her to his home at the cliff, his mind still reeling. Eventually he thought to ask, "Okay... so what's your name?"
She shook her head. "I wasn't given one," she murmured. It was silent as they walked up the stony path until she offered, "But I inherited my mother's abilities, much like how you inherited your mother's..." They drew even with the opening of the cave. "Kubo?" Both children whipped around as they beheld the elderly man who walked out of the cave. The moonlight made his white hair and skin seem even paler, like a spirit.
The boy walked forward, helping him to the girl. "This is your granddaughter," he introduced them. The old man smiled, looking sheepish. "Is that so..?" he mused. "I'm sorry, dear girl, I'm afraid I can't remember." The girl smiled in return, seeming happy. "It's okay," she said warmly. The man laughed softly. "Would you like to stay the night?" he offered. Kubo looked startled.
Then she threw him a pleading expression, to which he relented. They kept the old man company until both he and the girl fell asleep. Kubo then sat at the entrance, musing over the unexpected encounter. He remained that way for a while. "Why is she here?" he thought to ask himself. He was silent, the moonlight reflected in his eye. Then, over the crashing of the waves below, the boy heard a rustling sound.
He turned to see the paper from his bag soaring out, orbiting the cave. Luckily his grandfather remained asleep, but the girl tossed and turned, her expression fearful. The scene was reminiscent of his mother, when she had slept. Kubo hurried over. "Wake up!" he whispered. "It's just a dream!" The girl's eye flew open, the paper falling to the ground around them. "Kubo," she murmured.
A tear leaked out of her eye as she hugged him. "It's all gone, cousin," she hissed softly. "What's all gone?" he asked, bewildered. The girl shook her head, pulling away. She looked up at the night sky and sighed. "I guess now's a good a time as any to say," she muttered. The girl turned her gaze to him. In the background, their grandfather snored on obliviously. The girl pulled on her hat, tugging the brim low over her face.
Her voice was ashamed as she spoke. "When my mother… and our aunt went after you and your mother, I was left with grandfather in the heavens. He was so strong, strong enough to stand against any who dared steal the moon from us." Kubo inhaled. "But I defeated him," he said, his eye wide. The girl nodded. "I was… I was alone. I wasn't strong enough. There are others in the heavens besides our family, and I was not strong enough to stand against them. Our palace fell."
Her voice shook. A tear glimmered on her cheek. "What did it look like?" She looked at him inquisitively. "The castle, I mean," Kubo corrected himself. The girl smiled a little. "It was beautiful," the girl murmured. She looked around, and pointed to the shamisen. "May I show you?" she asked tentatively. Kubo made a face before picking it up and strumming it a little. "I guess," he agreed, handing it to her.
Her hand glowed a cold blue as she raised it. Shaking her head at the pick Kubo offered her, she strummed the shamisen gently. A dark blue paper and a white paper folded together, forming spires and arches of the castle. Light blue papers folded themselves around the structure, creating delicate trees and gardens. Lastly, three black papers formed his aunts and the girl.
"We lived together with grandfather," she murmured. A white paper folded itself into the old man. "But then my mother and our aunt left to seek you out. I never saw them again." The sisters refolded themselves into magnificent gates, upon which the paper girl and paper man braced themselves against. "They were so strong - when grandfather left -" The paper man abandoned the girl, who reached out a hand as he soared away. When the paper man flew above their hands, he collapsed into a piece of paper that drifted, unheeded, to the ground. The paper gates burst open, folding into a massive wave that overturned the paper girl.
"- our castle was taken," she finished. "I hid in the garden as they ransacked the castle, and just barely escaped." The little paper girl cowered atop a tree as the black wave ensnared the spires, slicing through the arches. As the carnage continued, the little paper girl crept away. Then the entire scene transformed, the girl stumbling as stars floated in the air, a moon overhead. The little paper girl held out her hands, and a small piece of paper folded itself into a hat.
She placed it on her head, then sat down, pulling it low. "I looked for you for a while. I didn't know where you were. I'm… so glad I found you." The girl's voice broke as the little paper girl collapsed into paper squares. Kubo eyed her nervously. "You… aren't mad your mom and aunt were killed?" he checked. The girl laughed suddenly, her mood swinging in an instant.
"Oh, not at all. They were very cruel," she told him. The girl glanced at their sleeping grandfather. He was turned over, snoring loudly now. "So was he," she said musingly. Her eye narrowed a bit as she tilted her head. Kubo reached out for his shamisen, which she gave up amiably. "My own instrument was stolen," she said wistfully, staring at it. The boy strummed the strings lovingly, causing a small bird to fold itself from a light green paper, which fluttered it's wings slightly as it hopped nearer to them.
Laughing, the girl reached out. The bird hopped onto her arm, tilting it's head. She mimicked the action, then whistled. Kubo grinned. Strumming the shamisen, a lively tune filled the cave, more birds folding themselves into existence. In the green cloud of fluttering birds the girl stretched out her arms, spinning. She whistled simultaneously, the two of them creating a symphony of sound.
Then the girl turned somber, slowing. "Did I tell you how I lost my eye?" she asked tentatively. Kubo shook his head, stilling his hand. The birds unfolded into a neat pile of green paper. The girl tilted her head. Then she said thoughtfully, "I guess I'll tell you tomorrow morning. It's getting late - day is already hard to deal with when I have enough sleep in the first place."
"Deal with the day?" Kubo said in confusion. The girl made a vague gesture. "Creatures of the night, are burned by the light. Creatures of the day, fear the the darkness's way," she recited. "My mother's words, at least on that, prove true." She tucked herself back into bed, leaving Kubo to pick up the papers. For a brief moment, he grumbled, resenting it. Then he slept.