Disclaimer: I have no right to claim Kamichama Karin as my own. Wish I could, though.

Warnings: Things happen. Interpreting events that probably didn't happen. You know, the usual stuff. And spoilers if you haven't read volume 5 already.

Still no solid plotline to be found.

Kirika Karasuma. She's suffered a lot. All because she wanted to be with the only family she had left.

… Watch me make stuff up XD

Reviewer replies:

Moose-chan, Brilliant Genius Number 7 and Sweet Raine: … I love you people. I really, truly do. (Has nothing intelligent to say how much she appreciates it.)

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Kirika 01

She loved her brother. Really, she did. Even though he had gone through a serious amount of depression, became obsessed with stalking and attacking Kujyou, and no longer seemed to see her as his sibling.

No, she still loved him after all that.

Kirika hated the idea of being separated after their parent's death, and had refused all attempts to be adopted into a family if Kirio was not going to go with her. When they eventually did, she couldn't help but wonder how normal it was for a young boy to regain his confidence through the use of magical rings and the idea of having a half-sister to protect.

Just the idea he acquired about attacking the other Himeka with Kujyou was enough to have her worry about him.

Not that she didn't have her own problems. Tall for her age and clearly undeveloped, mistaken for a boy most of the time, when Kirio had made the decision to move to more drastic measures to save Himeka, she knew she had to follow. And the only way for her to be able to do that was to masquerade as a boy and follow her brother until her own ring was capable of activating.

Part of her wondered why it had to be this way. From what she knew, Kujyou seemed like a fairly decent individual, and had never initiated any attacks on their side, but her brother refused to listen to any reasoning. Over time, he seemed to forget her as a sister (his twin, no less) and was focused solely on Himeka and the rings. It seemed to become his only reason for living, and she was afraid for him.

He didn't understand, he couldn't seem to understand, and she was the only one to burden the worry.

Of course, he would never admit to that. If the issue ever came up, he would merely push it away and say something about women always worrying about things they shouldn't be, but he couldn't seem to read between the lines at all.

The only family she had being pulled away from her; it hurt so much.

It had been so much easier when they had been younger, living with their mother. By then, their father had been long gone, leaving a lingering feeling of depression with him, but they generally chose to ignore it.

Kirika could still remember the day she had dragged Kirio to the optometrist for glasses, despite his own protests. He never really liked to be dragged around, but she refused to listen to him and did so anyway, due to the report that he really did need glasses.

Childhood memories like those were few and spaced far from each other, especially after their mother passed away. Kirio had instantly fallen into a state of depression and left Kirika to care for him, worry about him, and did her best to try and support him throughout.

And yet he never did take notice of all she had done for him.

It was true that she had never really did like the idea of fighting Kujyou, but the catalyst came in the form of Karin. Strong-willed and very much the sort to speak her mind, Kirika couldn't help but admire her.

Not only that, but the fact that Karin fought alongside Kujyou without being afraid that she was female. She was an equal (despite the fact that she clearly had no experience in her goddess powers) and took pride for who she was, and what she had.

Part of Kirika really wished that she had the same amount of confidence as the young girl.

These problems never seemed to leave her alone, and she could only wonder how much longer the battle would be. All she really wanted in the end, however, was the brother she had once known, and the recognition that they were, indeed, family.