Mayotta lightly touched the bark of the sacred tree. It had been years since she last stood under it. Closing her eyes she could still hear his voice.
"Shippo, are you there?" she whispered to the tree. She knew she was too old to have an imaginary friend now, but she missed having someone to talk to, even if it was all in her head.
Mayotta could still remember the first time her young mind came up with the idea. It had been her first day of school and everyone had laughed at her strange eyes. He uncle had dyed her hair black to help hide her illness, but there was nothing he could do about the yellowing of her eyes.
Mayotta sat down and leaned back against the tree, something she had done every day after school since that first day in elementary school. Her uncle was always working and she had no friends.
Perhaps that's why I made up Shippo. She reasoned. So I wouldn't be alone.
She couldn't deny that she enjoyed her afternoons with Shippo. They would play, tell jokes, and laugh together. But mostly, they talked. They talked about how different they were. Mayotta, with her strange illness and Shippo, being a fox-demon with pointy ears and a tail. She had found it hard to picture what he looked like, even though he had tried describing himself several times.
I look like a human, with green eyes and auburn hair, but I have pointy ears and a tail.
He had often complained about being rather small and weak compared to the other demons he was around, but she would always point out that he was much stronger than a human. He was also much kinder than the humans she knew. After all, he was her friend while most people didn't want to talk to the yellow-eyed girl with a temper. Like all friends, they had gotten into fights occasionally but always managed to move past it with understanding and a sincere apology. Then, when they had to leave Tokyo after a terrible incident at school, Mayotta was forced to say goodbye to her only friend.
I'll miss you, Mayotta. He had said. Comeback soon.
She had come back. It had been nearly eight years, but Mayotta and her uncle had finally returned to the family shrine and now she had returned to the tree where they had always played.
"I'm here, Shippo," She said out loud, knowing that no one would answer. She was a high schooler now and not a little kid. She knew Shippo was imaginary, but part of her wanted to hear his voice again. She wanted him to be here, tell her that it was alright to be different, that she wasn't alone in the world.
When no one answered, she stood and walked towards her home.
You knew this would happen, she thought, scolding herself, you knew he wasn't real. He only ever existed in your head.
Irritated with herself, Mayotta ran towards the main house, pushing away all her childish thoughts. Once inside her bedroom, she tossed her backpack on the bed. Glancing around, she could see that she still had several boxes to unpack. She also had homework, but she didn't feel like she could focus. Mayotta changed out of her school uniform, taking care to hang it properly, and grabbed her wooden Naginata.
Outside, she checked the area for any sticks or stones that could injure her and then began her practice routine. She started slow, making sure that her movements were precise, but the picked up speed as she worked through the kata. Soon she was flying through the movements. Mayotta closed her eyes and let her body do the work. Her muscles flexed and her Naginata flew through the air with tremendous speed and power. Her kiai grew louder and strong as she continued striking imaginary opponents. She poured her whole being into each strike of the Naginata.
As she reached her top speed she felt the rush she was looking for. Her muscles seemed to grow stronger, her movement became faster, but it all felt easier. She didn't even have to push to maintain her momentum. Her breathing slowed as the physical strain lessened. Her whole body pulsed with a strength that soothed her soul. This was her drug, her only addiction. And she relished in it.
"Mayotta!" a voice cried out, causing her to freeze and, instantly, the rush was gone. Opening her eyes, she saw her uncle standing there and by the look on his face, she had gone too far.
"Inside. Now."
"Yes, Oji-san," Mayotta wasted no time in listening to his command. As she passed him, she fingered a lock of her hair. Glancing down she saw that it was white, a symptom of her illness.
Shit. She thought, knowing she had pushed herself too far. At least I didn't lose control.
