Edited in beta version. Beta reader is firelordzuko.

Disclaimer is on my profile page.


Shion

Sometimes, Haruka would look strangely at Arata, as if she were something (or someone) else.

And Arata only wants to know why.

The Onikui-Tengu is the most recent addition to her old house, where she has lived alone since her grandmother passed away. To be honest, she is surprised when the great Tengu himself, the strongest of all ayakashi, offers her a chance to name him.

And Arata surprises herself even more with the name that escapes her lips that day.

She doesn't understand why she does so. She only feels that she has to do it, or the beautiful ayakashi will shatter before her eyes. She thinks that she needs company after years of living in solitude. Maybe that has made her desperate to ease her loneliness.

Now, though, she tries to squash her regrets whenever she sees that look from him.

Arata knows then that, paradoxically, a companion can cause loneliness.


"Hey."

Arata looks up from her book. "Yes, Haruka?"

"It's dinnertime already."

"Ah, yes." Glancing at the grandfather clock in her sitting room, she nods. "I've quite forgotten. Wait a moment, I'll make something."

Arata sees Haruka silently follow her movement as she sets down her book and goes to the kitchen. And then she sees that look again.

She (almost violently) tears her eyes away from him.

"What do you want today, Haruka?" she asks, with half-genuine cheerfulness. "We have some good quality meat here. Maybe I should just cook it shigure style?"

"Shougayaki," Haruka says. "And sake afterward."

"Alright." She smiles; she always smiles when facing him, no matter how she feels inside.

"Did you always forget to eat when you were alone?" His voice is sharp and patronizing.

"Then thank goodness I have you now, Haruka," she lightly replies with another smile.

Haruka seems disappointed and he has that look on his face again, and Arata's smile wavers slightly.


Arata isn't requested for ayakashi-related work often, and when she is, it's just small work. With Haruka's assistance, she finishes the work in record time and with minimal damage.

But there's one time when she comes home bruised, bleeding, battered. She wakes up to find herself nursed by Haruka, so gently, so carefully.

Between her labored breathes, she asks, "Hey, Haruka … will you be lonely when I die?"

No use to sugar-coat the truth; Arata will die one day, and Haruka will mourn for yet another lost human.

His face is a perfect image of sadness and anger and loneliness, all at once, but he replies, "Stop talking nonsense and [just] get better soon."

Arata sees that one look on Haruka's eyes yet again. She closes her eyes with a soft sigh and wills herself to fall into comforting oblivion.


"Say, Haruka," Arata calls out suddenly.

Haruka whips up his head from his bowl of sake. "Huh?"

"You once told me that you made a wish to see 'Kantarou'."

There's no way Arata can miss Haruka's tensing.

"I wonder if you've found him," she casually continues.

"I have," he replies, voice wavering.

"But I'm not him, Haruka."

Haruka's fingers tighten around his cup.

"I may be his descendant and reincarnation, but I'm not him."

Arata says it without reprimand, only a soft plea that she will somehow be recognized as a person of her own, not some leftover shadow of the man Haruka greatly cherishes.

"I've called you 'Haruka' a thousand times, but you never call me 'Arata' beside that day on higanbana field."

Haruka's cup falls from his hand and shatters on impact with wooden floor. He spreads his wings wide, takes off to the sky, not even looking back.

Arata's gaze never really leaves the glassy white moon until the dawn breaks.


After a request that involves a lavatory built on the kimon, Arata has to fend off a swarm of Oni on her own, silently cursing the fool who designed his house wrongly. Without Haruka around and with the god Kanbarinyuudou out of commission, she can only rely on her strength alone.

Arata is too focused on building a mantra to reseal the kimon, and she doesn't notice an Oni that has gotten inside her defense. The Oni lunges on her and tears open her back.

Blood, her blood, splatters everywhere, drenching her world deep crimson. She staggers and forces herself to stand tall, and with her last strength, she releases the seal.

The attacking Oni vanishes as the seal works out, but she doesn't have enough time to see as her world turns black.


Her parents were gone, and Arata was alone.

So she sold the apartment and moved to her grandmother's house.

.

.

.

Her grandmother passed away, and Arata was even more alone.

So she lived on with remembrance and loneliness as her constant companion.

.

.

.

Arata met Haruka and she was no longer alone.

But then Haruka left and Arata was—


"You're really a fool, aren't you?"

Chuckling, Arata says, "A fool like me is needed sometimes."

Haruka hits his knuckle to the table. "You could have died!"

"But I'm still alive."

"Yeah, saved in the nick of time! A little later, you would've crossed Sanzu-no-kawa!"

"Not too loud, Haruka. This is a hospital." Arata scolds him.

Haruka shuts his mouth with a sharp click. "Now what, you fool?"

"Nothing." Arata shrugs. "I'll recover."

"Damn right you will!"

A slight pause, and Arata asks, "What will you do when I am dead?"

Haruka falls silent.


The day Arata is released from hospital, Haruka brings home handfuls of shion flowers, and plants them in Arata's garden. Arata only watches quietly behind him, pondering over what's going on inside the Tengu's head.

"This is our remembrance," Haruka suddenly says. "Even after you die, I'll find you over and over again."

"You're one weird Tengu." Arata smiles sadly. "Ayakashi and human aren't suited to each other."

Haruka stands up abruptly, facing Arata. "I don't care if you or Sugino mock me. I still want you to stay by my side. No," he shakes his head, "I want to stay by your side, Arata."

The wind blows suddenly over them. Some purple petals flutter away and dance on the breeze.

"…I understand." A tear rolls down Arata's cheek, but at the same time, she smiles.


Shion is the flower associated with memories and remembrance.

There are as many memories between the two of them as purple flowers growing in her garden.


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