Glossary: Isn't it nice to know ahead of time?
Choucho (or chou) means butterfly.
Tanto is a small Japanese blade, typically 6 to 10 inches long.
Wakizashi is a Japanese blade, typically 12 to 24 inches long.
Yukata is more casual than a kimono and are mainly made of cotton, not silk.
Hime is a word used for princes or a lady of higher birth, also used as name suffix.
Dreaming of Butterflies
"Studies show:
Intelligent girls are more depressed
Because they know
What the world is really like
Don't think for a beat it makes it better
When you sit her down and tell her
Everything gonna be all right
She knows in society she either is
A devil or an angel with no in between
She speaks in the third person
So she can forget that she's me"
- Emilie Autumn, Opheliac
Of Wishes
A preteen girl in the heart of olden Edo, Japan lazily looked out the large, open window. She tried forgetting about the book in her lap. It weighed heavily of long vocabulary and formal mannerisms. She leaned against her beside, trying to push out all the enforced rules of her high class parents. She bleakly closed her eyes, wishing to forego everything, to break free from this place.
She might as well be chained by the ankles. Don't do this, don't do that, often chided her mother. All she could do was look outside at the beautiful flowers, unable to play in the dirt as the servants' kids did. She wished to chase tomcats and be flirted with. She wished to touch the stars and fly.
The breezed rolled in, brushing a long her eyelids. She blinked. A butterfly had landed on her finger. It was a soft blue with magenta specks. What lovely shades of color, thought the girl. She wished to touch the winged beauty, but feared breaking the very things that set it free. The girl vowed, she would be as free as the butterfly. It flapped its wings and flew off.
"Good-bye, Choucho-chan."
Of Metamorphosis
Older now, the girl stood straight. Her shoulders were rigid yet elegant as taught. She faked a pleasant smile for the noblemen before her. At age fifteen, she had been groomed for marriage and was ready for suitor. Much to her displeasure. Over the years, she drastically changed. She still yearned, but her cries were reduced to silent screams as her parents ignored her further. She held back tears while studying the three men before her.
They were young, one even only two years older. Perhaps in another time, another world, she would have contemplated her marriage with happiness. But not today. Her mind was elsewhere, plotting as her body went through a facade. She needed to escape. But what could she do?
She listened to her father talk to the suitors. Perhaps, she contemplated, her father would listen to one last to plea. No, no, she corrected her hopes. Her father invested a lot into her marriage. He paid for books, tutors, and silken kimonos. He watched her morph from a naïve girl to a profitable young woman. He would lose too much with her freedom.
But mother, she thought, would understand. Her mother was also raised in a similar situation, having an arranged marriage to her father. But she was cold even to her own daughter, her affection only displayed occasionally. The girl missed her earlier days when her mother read night stories of men battling ogres to her before being replaced by the nanny.
The girl used to look up to her mother and beauty she beheld. She had raven locks and cool cerulean eyes that once held happiness. But maybe she could relight her mother.
A tiny ray of her hope sprouted inside, allowing a true smile. The smile caught the eye of the oldest suitor, unbeknownst to the girl. Despite his age, he had a youthful appearance. He dressed in a sharp suit that was set off by his mess of brunette hair. He bit his thumb, almost in a childish manner, also planning.
Later that night, she humbly bowed her head to her mother. She told her the request and quietly awaited the response. Her voice was filled to the brink of desperation. Please, please, she begged her god. Let me be free. Her body shivered in anticipation, skinned coated in goosebumps. She eyed the wooden floor beneath her bare feet, counting the planks to pass the time. It had been nearly a minute since her request, nearly a minute since her heart thumped rapidly.
Her mother's words came from painted, cold lips. "I cannot allow this, Botan." Her heart nearly stopped. "We have enemies," she continued. "Allies will strengthen our power. Going against this and your father would be futile. You know this, Botan."
The girl bit her lip, trying to will her mother's words away. "Please, Mother. I do not wish to marry, at least not yet. All I ask is for you to delay this."
Her mother shook her head, a negative. "The courting will commence. You are our daughter, do not forget this. You can't keep dreaming forever. It's time to face reality, no matter how either harsh or surreal. Go to bed, you have a long day tomorrow. Good night." Without a second glance, the girl's mother picked up her brush once more and dipped it in her link.
The girl bowed and left the woman alone to writing letters to the nearby clans.
Of A Fleeting Taste
The girl tightly gripped her nanny's hand, clutching it like a life line. Her nerves pulsed erratically. She was actually doing it! She smelled the town's air, letting overtake her senses. It wasn't as clean as her home, but it was more alive than anything she felt before. She tugged her male yukata, not wanting to be recognized as the nobleman's daughter. A white bandana covered her ebony hair. Thankfully, there was no need for breast binding with her slack clothing. She smiled brightly and loosened her grip of her nanny's hand. She loved the woman for sneaking her outside after a horrid dinner the night before with her suitor.
"Have fun," the nanny whispered in her ear.
With wide, interested eyes the girl walked through the town. Tall men passed by her, some bumping her without apologizing. She bowed her head and kept walking as one glared at her. She continued along the path, her nanny trailing behind.
"Do you wish to go alone?"
The girl nodded. "I'll be at the fountain at dusk." Before her nanny could reply, the girl was off.
She explored the busy streets in amazement. She came across a teahouse which she decided to enter. Before venturing, the girl was sure to pocket money. A bell rang above her head, and a woman came to greet her with a smile. The girl took a seat and ordered jasmine tea.
The building was small, just a little bigger than her room. She had reminded herself that her room was big by regular standards. Red lanterns dangled from the ceiling, candles lighting the dim room. Flowers and paintings decorated the walls. The tables were a dark wood, bare without a tablecloth. She ran a slender finger against the wood, feeling the smooth surface. Her ears picked up the sound of giggles.
Up and to her right were a group of three girls in pretty yukatas. One girl had black hair in symmetrical buns, the tallest one had thick braids, while the petite girl had long brunette curls in a single ponytail. The disguised girl absently touched her ebony locks beneath her bandanna. She felt jealous of the petite girl, able to wear such a simple design. She vowed to one day have her hair like that. The group of girls saw their onlooker and giggled again. The tall one waved, causing the girl to blush.
The woman returned with her tea, and the girl sipped it without cooling it off. The girls giggled again. She blushed harder. How could she fumble over such a simple task? She quickly finished her tea, ignoring her scalded throat. She set down yen, rushed pass the group of girls, and went outside. Embarrassing!
For an hour, she enjoyed the sights Edo had to offer. Using nimble steps, like a dancer, she avoided brutes and pickpockets. Her eyes would peak put beneath her bangs. She spotted gruff men with a rival clan's insignia patched on their backs. She gulped and lowered her head. The Shiraga clan tends stay on Edo's outskirts and Yokohama… What's going on?
Luckily, hardly anyone paid attention to her, which she was grateful for. The last thing she needed was for her father to catch wind of his daughter roaming the lesser streets.
"Sir, sir," an old voice croaked. "You can call me Tsubame."
It took her a few moments to heed the old woman's words, forgetting her male disguise. She walked up to the old woman's stall. Jewelry and trinkets sprawled on her stand. A long wrinkled finger pointed at one of a lady bug with eight polka dots. "Good luck," the old woman said. "Very good luck. You should buy."
The girl was hesitant, deciding to look at everything before buying anything. "I'm going to look at other things before this."
The old woman nodded. "Ay, you see this." Her finger glided to a golden orb. "My husband fought a kitsune for this, very messy fight but he's alive."
"And the kitsune?"
"Alive too, sadly."
She wasn't sure what to make of the old woman's tale, but continued looking. "What's this yellow triangle thing?"
"Oh, a part of a silly legend. Nothing special."
That's when it caught the girl's eye, a butterfly pendant. It was a silver butterfly. Specks of sky blue and magenta were encrusted on the wing's edges. A smile lit up her face.
"Good choice," the old woman said, "Botan-sama."
"H-how—"
"These ol' eyes and ears," she tapped on them, "miss nothin'." Many rings adorned her bony, knotted fingers. There were star rings, roses, and hearts; of a dark wing and light wing intertwined, a black cat with a crescent moon, and a white fang. She smiled in a way the girl had never witnessed.
She set a blanket over the merchandise after the girl paid for the butterfly. "Come inside m' shop." She gestured for a gruff man to step from the shadows to watch her items. The smile didn't waver as she her shop door, knowing that the girl would follow.
The woman stepped aside, letting the girl wander freely.
There were items displayed on the wall: an oar, voodoo dolls, zodiac figurines which included a cat, and dark crystal. The book shelf was crammed. There was Chapter White volume two, Soul Meisters, and something called the Life Script. She picked Dreams and Reality by Ai Love.
"I'd also like this, please."
The wrinkled woman seemed to have much accumulated knowledge, something that scared and mystified her. Next time she had the chance to venture out, the girl would snatch it.
As it happened, the girl tried visiting the woman, only to find the shop bare without a trace.
Of Blossoming
At the eve of her wedding, the girl sat woefully on her bed. Her nanny brushed her long black her and styled it in a bun.
"You are lovely, Botan-hime. Hachiro-sama is lucky to have you as a bride."
"I don't wish to be a bride," she confided in her best friend. "I'd do anything to escape, Michiko-chan."
Her nanny sighed, her soft breath cooling the girl's neck. "I knew you would say such things." She patted the girl's head. "I'll be right back."
As her nanny left, the girl brought her knees closer and held them in her slender arms. The window was open, white curtains drawn. The crescent moon's light cascaded on her body, casting a small shadow. She embraced the crickets' harmony. Everything seemed so perfect outside. If only I could join in, she thought.
Her nanny returned with a russet sack in hand. The girl stared curiously at the peculiar sight. The woman had tears in her eyes. "What is it?" The girl asked.
The woman sniffed, wiping her eyes with a free hand. "I can no longer stand to see Botan-hime's unhappiness. Please forgive me."
The girl nodded. "Of course I will, but what is in the sack?"
"I packed food and other necessaries for you." The nanny set the sack on the bed. While the girl dug through the bag, the nanny pulled something up from beneath the bed. "I've prepared for this day." She set a cloak on her bed along with a small pouch of yen.
The girl hugged her nanny gratefully. "Oh, Michiko-chan, I love you."
She left.
Edo's streets still smelled of rain, a scent she loved.
The girl clutched her butterfly pendant, one of the few personal items she took with her. It was nearly twenty minutes since she climbed out the window and escaped her marriage. She was finally living her dream, freedom!
The night air was crisp, and the full moon guided her swift footsteps. She wore the same boyish yukata from three weeks ago, but now a cloak shadowed her face. The streets of Edo were nearly empty, save a few men. Everything seemed so perfect like life was finally bending to her will. She cheered mentally.
After seemingly forever, she could see the path leading out of Edo.
That's when she bumped into a brute man. She fell back, but his body didn't even budge. She hurriedly stood and bowed profusely. "I'm really sorry, sir." She dared a dared a glance up at him. He was one of the rival clan members. "Please, forgive me."
He scowled. "Who the hell should I forgive at this hour?" He stepped closer, hand reaching for the cloak.
Frightened, the girl quickly stepped back. "Uh, no one, sir. It's late. I really should be going." She began trying to go around the brute, but he yanked her cloak off. Her hair was still held in a bun, and terrified face was clear in the moonlight. At his smug smirk, she ran, leaving his cackling behind.
Her heart slammed against her ribcage. The man unsettled her. Flies snipped at her skin. The man was right behind her. She felt hollow and sick at the thoughts of what the Shiraga member might do to her.
"What's wrong, what's wrong," he called, "Botan-sama!"
Her feet splashed in puddles. Her breath was hot as he lessened the distance. She could see it now, only six meters away was the end of Edo. She ran through the exit, bypassing through the beaten path and into the tree area. Please, just get lost! It was ungodly muddy, and it slopped up on her shaking knees. I'm nearly out of energy.
In honesty, this didn't surprise her. Being a nobleman's daughter didn't require much physical activity beside the occasional exercise to keep off weight. Her calves burned madly, and friction coursed through her thighs. She nearly tripped on a fallen branch and abandoned her slipper without a thought. The watery mud soaked through, numbing her foot with a cold bitterness.
Thick tree roots sprawled across the ground, causing the girl to trip. She braced herself, arms protecting her face. She crashed. A little dizzy she tried standing but fell. Her ankle throbbed, sprained. Ignoring the pain, she forced herself to stand.
A gruff hand dragged on the yukata, causing her to twirl and face him. "Ah, little Botan-sama, the precious daughter of the Ebisu Yamaguchi. Betchya didn't know somethin' 'bout Daddy dearest, not with that innocent frightened look, eh?" He cackled.
She struggled, trying to free her tangled body.
"He's no nobleman!" His grin was manic. "No, no, but a Yakuza man with a gambling debt!"
"Liar!"
"Why else do you think he's marrying you off to a shogun's son, Hachiro?"
She glared at the man, all terror gone in a heartbeat. This was the reason for her imprisonment! Bastard!
"But now I have me a lil' yakuza princess. How sweet. You're worth a fortune." The girl's eyes widened, but then narrowed in fury. She spat on his face.
"I will not be a pawn!"
She kicked him in the groin while he was shocked. Huffing, she slowly ran. Without getting far, her foe caught up. She didn't see him pull out his tanto blade from his sash, nor the man's crazed reflection. Too caught up fury, he slashed at his would-be fortune. She harshly collided into the body of nearby a tree. Using the trunk to balance herself, she leaned on her back. Her breath was heavy and legs lifelessly lied in the muddy grass. She felt the bark through her cut yukata, getting sticky and warm.
She tiredly lifted her head at the brute and his bloody knife. She didn't know if she was going to die, even if the man left. She knew nothing medical; unsure if her back wound was fatal. It hurt. Terribly. "So," she asked breathlessly, "what now?"
He had a horrid expression, trying not to believe that young woman was bleeding before his eyes. He gulped. "Wha-what have I done?" His free fingers tore at his hair, his scalp bleeding. "I'm screwed." His body tensed at the words. "You!" He angrily pointed at the girl. "This is your fucking fault!" He loomed toward her, knife in hand.
She clenched her eyes close, awaiting the fatal cut. The small blade penetrated her lower torso. Her entire body shuddered at the feeling. It hurt worse than her back. The world blurred as she uttered the words, "Bastard."
She blinked, and the man was gone. How much time has passed? The tanto blade was still lodged in her stomach, yet she couldn't lift her leaden arms. I'm going to die. She knew one day she would have to face the reaper, but she planned for it on her own terms. She blinked again, and then opened her eyes to a butterfly perched on her paling nose.
"Hello, Choucho-chan." The butterfly was so beautiful, like always. From the night sky and forest air, more butterflies fluttered in. "So, you've brought friends. You're so nice, Choucho-chan."
She tried smiling, but was interrupted by a horrible cough. She urged her legs to move, not wanting to die like this. She slowly stood using just her legs and her back against the tree to shimmy up. There was no way she would die in the middle of know and have creature dwell on her dead flesh.
C'mon. C'mon.
She clenched her teeth and walked with heavy breaths. Her location wasn't too far away from path close to Edo.
Just a few more steps.
The clouds began unclogging the sky.
A few more.
She dropped to one knee.
I can…
She coughed, blood spewing.
I…
She collapsed on her back.
A black butterfly propped itself on her head, while another topped the blade. The wind rustled the treetops. Moonlight ushered in, gleaming on the blade lodged in the girl's stomach.
"Such a perfect scene for my final freedom."
As she closed her eyes for the last time, she thought she saw a blurred woman in a kimono.
Of Final Freedom in the Sky
The girl deeply bowed in front of the prince, named Koenma, her back nearly arching in a perfect angle. Her face was flushed with embarrassment of her assumption. The prince was a talking toddler, how peculiar! At his word, she stood normally. The toddler was flipping through pages in a file titled Botan Yamaguchi.
"A yakuza princess… Engaged… I see, I see." She was surprised how clearly his words came out despite his pacifier. "Normally," he explained, "I wouldn't bother with you. But you're not normal. I don't care about the yakuza thing. Ogre," he called nonchalantly, "bring this woman an oar." He smiled at her. "No, no. You craved something beyond reorganization, beyond what destiny had written in your file. You craved freedom.
I offer this to you, freedom. Freedom granted after death. However, in return, I ask one simple thing. Do you understand thus far?" The girl nodded eagerly. "You are to become one my grim reapers of Japan. You will guide the decease to the gates. They will be freed from mortality, like you. Do you accept?"
She was nearly lost for words. "I, I do!"
He grinned. "Then, my new reaper, what form shall you take?"
She paused, the question unraveling her more so than supernatural unearthliness of the situation. First being guided by a woman on an oar to this place. Then finding out the overseer of her world was a toddler. And finally, becoming a part of the process which initially terrified her. She could take in all of this, a part of her mind already setting it away to deal with later. But this, what the toddler just spoke, was different. Never once was she allowed to indulge in choosing her appearance, always being regal and classy.
She wanted fun, something spontaneous and cheerful. "How do I that?"
"Spirit and human bodies are somewhat different. Since you're not bound to real flesh, your mind can manipulate your appearance. It will drain your energy at first, but the longer you stay in, the less energy you will use. Be warned, after prolong usage, your body can permanently remain in that state. Close your eyes."
She did so.
"Now picture yourself as you currently. Every detail, freckles, fingernails, etc."
She pictured it, the well of her self-loathing.
"Think of the appearance you wish to take. Most choose eyes and hair, but I've seen noses and ears too."
At first, Botan wasn't sure what she wanted to change. The butterfly came to view. As a child, as a necklace, as her last beauty before death. The butterfly, I want to be a beautiful butterfly. She saw it, her and butterfly as one.
"It worked."
She instantly opened her eyes, desperately needing to see her transformation. "I need a mirror," she requested urgently.
Koenma opened a draw and pulled out a hand mirror, causing the girl to wonder if he was vain or self conscious. She hesitantly took a look, now anxious if she screwed up. Her breath caught in her throat. She touched her face. "This can't be real…" Long sky blue hair flowed to her waste, and vibrant magenta eyes stared widely back at her. "Oh my…"
She returned his mirror. "Thank you. I don't know what to say. All this is so wonderful, I think I might be dreaming."
At that moment, Ogre came carrying an oar. He smiled at her new appearance. "I knew you take the offer."
The toddler prince laughed. "Ha, then why did you bet against it, stupid ogre?"
His servant's cheeks became red. "You bet for it, I couldn't bet on anything else!"
"Whatever, the Ayame's onigiri are all mine. Even if I lost, I'm still your superior."
The girl couldn't help laughing at the scene. Not a soft giggle, but flat out, loud laughing. The squabble stopped at the melodious sound. After death and transformation, the normal comical scene hit a spot. "I know I'm going to love this job."
Orge bowed and placed the oar in her outstretched hands. "This the enchanted oar is given only to grim reapers."
The girl took it, feeling the smooth wood. "So pretty," she murmured.
"There's one last thing," said Koenma. "In your journal, even though you write in third person, you never mention yourself by name."
She blushed at thought of him reading her journal. But what could she say against a prince?
"It's on your file," he mentioned hastily. "There's staff which fill these things out."
She let out a relieved breath. "I don't like my name. People always add sama or hime at the end. It's so disgusting, I hate it. I wanted to forget."
"Peonies are gorgeous flowers," Koenma said, "life yourself." Orge nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, maybe my name isn't that bad."
But is Botan a Butterfly?
There was knocking at the door. Botan yawned from her futon and wearily got up. She rubbed her eyes. Stifling another yawn, she opened the door.
"Oh, hey Ayame-san."
Her coworker offered her closed hand. "I believe this yours." She fingers opened, revealing Botan's butterfly pendant.
She quickly snatched her precious item without caring for grace. "Thank you so much," she said quietly, her voice barely audible. "I don't know what I'd do without it."
She spoke the truth. A slight tremor of panic had been cycling through Botan since her rebirth without her pendant, her treasure, her small companion through the memories.
Ayame nodded. "I remember when I first came here, a few hundred years ago. But that tale is not why I'm here."
Botan moved, and offered Ayame into her apartment room that was held for Spirit World's staff. They took a seat on the couch. Ayame crossed one slender leg across her knee and continued to talk.
"Have you the tale of the man and the butterfly?"
"I haven't." She absently rubbed her fingers on the jewels of the butterfly.
"It goes something like this:
A man falls asleep and dreams he's a butterfly. But in the dream, the butterfly falls asleep and dreams it's a man. When he awakes, he's never sure forever afterward if he really is a man, or just a butterfly having a dream."
At the last syllable, time stood still and grey. Ayame was motionless, and the clock's hands didn't tiktok.
What did Ayame mean by this?
Was this a dream? Was the girl's corpse still rotting? Was this a dream while her true ghost wandered through a lifeless eternity? Too many thoughts. Too much hurt. Was Ayame her subconscious trying to tell her something? She read something about it in a book.
The girl clutched her pendant, the wing's points edging into her flesh. At the pain, it plopped to the floor. She sat, being afraid, alone, and hurt. The girl didn't know what to do. The girl wished this world could be real. The girl latched to her now black hair, and stared intently at her quivering knees.
"I'm here to tell you that this is not the case." Color resumed.
The girl snapped up at the gentle voice.
"So, you're not some part of me, trying to say this isn't reality?"
"Many new employees feel paranoia creeping up, so I take it as my job to set things straight. This is real, Botan-san. Welcome to the afterlife. Are you ready?
Botan's cheerful appearance resumed. She nodded eagerly. "For anything."
A/N:
Is she truly awake? I mean, if you look at the signs…
Just saying.
Kidding. She's not dreaming. Wouldn't that be cruel, nyah~~?
Perhaps we'll see more of the peculiar Tsubame in my other fanfiction. (This is her first appearance. Feel excited.) She knows many things and has appeared to have traveled many places. Where should she end up next? I'm thinking in a Kurama story or maybe Sailor Moon. By the way, check out a Death Note fanficion called Life Script. Now.