Let me die in spring, under the blossoming trees…
Those were its first words. To the ancient tree, life began in death.
It had known he was tired. And it had known that the man who now slept would never wake again.
And so, it had awakened; a dream of life within a dream of death, a strange and ephemeral boundary.
Born from a poet's end, alive in death forever.
Saigyou Ayakashi.
In life, in true, waking, ensouled life, its blossoms would grow. It would become like nothing before, and nothing after.
There was an irony – in life and death, in a beauty appreciated only as the end of a life – and the tree was unaware.
But if not the tree that had been awakened, if not the tree that now slept and dreamed, then who could see the irony, the strange dichotomy?
She felt a tugging sensation.
She – no, Marisa Kirisame. Marisa's awareness had expanded, now, to include herself.
The tree was still there, still in its first blossoms. Marisa Kirisame was not yet awake.
"It's not like us," said Koishi, still holding the witch's sleeve. "It's alive, though…"
"It knows sleep and death," said Marisa, staring at the tree's blossoms. She had only ever seen the tree's empty branches, seen it in its eternal, deadened sleep – even she could appreciate it now.
Beauty had never been her enthusiasm, but she understood nonetheless that the Saigyou Ayakashi was beautiful, now.
"That's all…" said Koishi, staring. "It's not… evil."
"No." Marisa took a step forward, and tried to take another.
She couldn't.
"We're going to wake up soon," said Koishi, her expression unreadable.
"How do you know?"
"Saigyou Ayakashi," said the satori. "This is its dream."
"It's… not dead?"
"No."
＊ ＊ ＊
"But it's never going to wake up."
Marisa rolled over to face Koishi, who lay in bed staring at the ceiling. She wasn't sure how the process of waking could be so… unnoticeable, as if the waking world had simply snuck into perception.
Koishi sat up, and the lack of energy in her movements was worrying.
"I'm fine," said the satori, giving Marisa a faint smile. "I want to see it again."
"The dream?" said Marisa, worrying about the answer she sensed.
"The tree."
A short silence fell, but Koishi's resolve was, in the way only hers could be, tangible.
"I'll be okay. I'm not sleepy, now."
Marisa didn't question her. The image of a falling Koishi was still painted in her mind, but she didn't intend to push for caution. Not out of fear, not against the eternal wonder that was Koishi's odd journeying.
"Let's go, then," said the witch, putting on a grin.
"Right now?" said Koishi, a more enthusiastic smile now creeping onto her face.
"Right now."
＊ ＊ ＊
Marisa watched as Koishi took one step towards the tree, staring intensely at it.
"It really is asleep…" Koishi shook her head. "It's dreaming."
"What is it?" Marisa asked – she knew the stories, but what it was to Koishi was something else entirely.
"Life and death… Life from death. Saigyo Hoshi."
"The poet?"
"He chose to die beneath this tree." Koishi walked forward, still looking at the empty branches of the Saigyou Ayakashi.
"…so it… really IS a Youkai tree, then?"
"Yes," said a third voice. Marisa and Koishi turned to face Yuyuko Saigyouji. "But still just a tree, in its own way."
Marisa chose, for once, to remain silent. Koishi did not speak.
"It acted only naturally, to extend its own life." Yuyuko's expression was readable now, if distant. Whatever Yuyuko Saigyouji chose to be normally, it was not what she was now. "It continued on the only path it had ever known."
"It was afraid of you," said Koishi, putting one hand up to the tree's deadened bark.
"It was, yes," said Yuyuko, raising one palm.
Lines of color traced themselves through the air, following an unseen will, and together birthed a butterfly of light and color.
"The butterflies brought death with them, certain and silent. Nothing would be left for the tree to take." The butterfly's wings fluttered, and it slowly took to the air.
"I can see your story," said Koishi, her gaze finally straying from the strange tree. "But…" she trailed off.
"Was I meant to bring death?" Yuyuko asked, and her expression did not seem to mirror the uncertainty in Koishi's. "Perhaps I could have starved the tree, prevented the endless sleep it brought to so many by granting such to those who wandered near - and perhaps that is why I was granted these powers."
And then, Yuyuko smiled. From that, Marisa could tell nothing. "And perhaps, in the end, I simply failed in my duty."
She continued. "Not everything in life happens for a reason. Not every counterpart is a perfect match, and not every fragment has a purpose."
Silence fell, for some time.
"I never thought I'd hear that from you," Marisa said at last.
Yuyuko's smile remained. "Our existence would be a dreadfully boring game if nothing remained unpredictable, would it not?"
Koishi, at last, turned from the tree, facing Yuyuko. "You're… far away, now," she said, and Marisa knew that the ghost was now without mask. "Even though it's you beneath that tree."
"The memories of the living are not my own." Yuyuko said, and then she surprised them both, reaching one hand out to pat Koishi on the head. "And so, you needn't worry; I harbor no great sorrow. Although I have learned the story of Saigyo's daughter in the time since that spring, I am her ghost, not her soul."
Yuyuko produced a fan, and opened it – it was not the mask that it usually was. "The daughter's memories – the memories of the living – are not mine. I have learned her secrets – but they are hers nonetheless – not my own."
The ghost raised one hand, and then one finger, and the single butterfly landed on it. Its wings fluttered slowly, its life still traced in light.
"This is but a dream of what they once were," Yuyuko said, her smile still odd and distant. "A controllable shadow of the force that drove the daughter to take her own life. My name is my own…
"Yuyuko Saigyouji. Princess of the Netherworld, keeper of spirits. That, for now, is all."
Koishi's concern was strange, but focused. Marisa could sense her confusion, but also her understanding – the satori did not understand Yuyuko, but she understood sorrow and distance. She was worried, with one unknown and one known that had so painfully defined her past.
"I am well, Koishi Komeiji," Yuyuko said, her smile shifting from distant to genuine. It was a fitting expression, against all odds. "You have seen the tree for what it is, as nobody has before, and for that, I thank you."
"It was dreaming…"
"Yes. Life, death, sleep – a story told only in endings. But you dreamed what even I could not, and it is… a refreshing change."
Koishi took one step forward, and then another, still looking worried. Yuyuko's thoughts and feelings were not masked now, Marisa was guessing, but they were most likely incomprehensible nonetheless.
Koishi reached out and pulled Yuyuko into a hug. It was only the feelings Marisa could sense that kept her from being entirely dumbfounded.
But Yuyuko accepted it, and even returned the gesture. And then, as if she simply meant to surprise, she looked to Marisa.
"She is a kind one, is she not?" Yuyuko's smile was not the one Marisa was used to seeing.
But in spite of herself, Marisa smiled, and replied in kind. "Yeah," she said, "she really is."
There was a quiet, genuine joy in the silence that followed.
"Ah," said Yuyuko at least, assuming a less telling smile. "You have seen me for what I am, now, haven't you? I suppose I should be worried."
Marisa thought on this a moment, and then grinned. "Nah," she replied, shrugging. "I didn't steal it for myself. Wouldn't be fair, y'know?"
"Can't let me do all the work!" Said Koishi, floating into the air.
"Exactly! Besides, you're tricky," said Marisa. "It'd take me forever to figure out how to use that against you. Well, not if I wanted it to work…" She shrugged. "You're safe, either way."
"And so speaks the prodigal thief," Yuyuko declared, her expression once again a smiling mask. "Very well, very well. I won't detain you any longer, then."
Marisa chuckled. "You want us out that badly, huh?"
Koishi, on the other hand, had focused again – and Marisa could feel it.
"Yuyuko?" she asked, her expression more earnest than anyone else's could be.
"Yes?"
"…Thank you." Koishi's focus gave way to a distant smile.
Yuyuko raised one eyebrow, still smiling. "You are thanking me, now?"
"Yeah." Koishi looked up. "For letting us see everything."
"It has always been there to see," said Yuyuko. "You are simply the first to have an eye for it… so to speak."
The satori tilted her head. "It wasn't my dream, though…"
Yuyuko chuckled. "My, you are an interesting guest, Koishi Komeiji."
"You have a funny way of thinking of "interesting"," Koishi replied, now smiling. "It's really cool!"
Yuyuko smiled, although she did not respond to the odd observation. "You are welcome to return here, if you ever wish to. And yes," she added, giving Marisa a glance, "you can bring her, if it makes you more comfortable."
"Yay!" Koishi hopped into the air, and then stayed floating, giggling as she did so.
"Oh, and I must say," Yuyuko raised her fan, but her eyes betrayed her smile. "The two of you do make a cute couple."
＊ ＊ ＊
"…But why is it worrying coming from her?" Koishi's gaze was piercing – innocent curiosity gave it an odd intensity.
"She's Yuyuko," said Marisa, sighing.
"And she's nice! It's a strange nice, but she really is!"
"To you!"
"And to you!" Koishi tilted her head.
Yeah, too nice. Marisa narrowed her eyes.
"What's that mean? CAN you be too nice?"
For your own good, but that's not what I—
"What DO you mean?"
Marisa sighed. Hiding things from Koishi was pointless, and not something she wanted to do anyways. And that… meant some sacrifices had to be made.
Like dignity.
"She's got enough of a sense of humor to embarrass me if it'd be funny, and she's smart enough she actually has a good shot at setting it up. And I don't know what's going through her head, ever. There, that it?"
"You're blushing inside!" Koishi giggled.
"Wh—what's that even mean?"
"I dunno, but I like it!" Marisa became oddly aware of a weight on her back – Koishi was hugging her, and this fact had simply crept into awareness.
Marisa sighed, gave in to some small amount of embarrassment, and smiled. "Jeez, I dunno how I keep you around."
"Eh?"
"You're too cute. It's bad for my image!"
"But you like it!"
"That only makes it worse!" Marisa waved a hand in mock dismissal. "I'm supposed to be out causing trouble, not going soft with you!"
"Are you not causing trouble when you go out with me? I thought I helped!"
"You do! It's just not the same, having a giant soft spot." Marisa grinned and shrugged, patting Koishi on the head. "It's worth it, though."
Koishi jumped, and then hugged Marisa, holding on for a while.
"That was fun," said the satori, finally letting go. "I'm tired, though…"
"I don't blame ya, really," said Marisa. "It's kind of a long trip back from the Netherworld, and you had a lot of stuff to take in."
"She's… deep," said Koishi, and a passing mental image told Marisa that Koishi was talking about the Netherworld's mistress.
"And what's that mean?" Marisa found herself smiling – beyond Koishi, there wasn't a particular reason. That was more than alright, though.
"When I first met her, I couldn't really see anything," said Koishi, looking down at her third eye. "But later, when she came out by the tree, I could, and I think she let me."
"Well, if anyone could…" Marisa shook her head. "How's that mean she's deep, though? Having a way to hide doesn't really mean you have that much to hide."
A lot of people are just afraid.
"She felt strange, by the tree. She was far away, but she was there, and I could see her. I don't know where she came from… but it's been hard, I'm sure."
Marisa could feel Koishi, and in that, she could understand.
"You feel like that sometimes, huh?" Marisa said, looking at Koishi.
"Not like she does. For her, it's all sad, but it's all long, long ago. It's a sad story, how she came to be, what she learned about her history, but it's just… it's a far away feeling, not her heart.
"Sometimes I feel kind of like that, yeah. I know all the things that hurt me were a long time ago, but they don't feel like it. And… they still hurt. Yuyuko… she's a little numb. A little cold, and she's okay with that. I'm… I try to be far away, sometimes, because I'm moving forwards, right?'
Marisa lowered her gaze, and then took a step forwards. "Come here, you," she said, sweeping Koishi into her arms.
Koishi hugged her in return, and went on. "Sometimes, I think of me now and me then like different people, right? Because I'm not going to be afraid now, and what happened was a long time ago, even if my feelings don't understand that. But…"
She paused as Marisa gave her a playful tap on the head.
"Don't be silly—well, okay. Be silly, but not like this!" The witch grinned. "You're not being brave if you aren't afraid of anything!"
Koishi gave a small smile. "It's not fun to be afraid."
"No, not at all. It sucks, and how much I hate it is a lot of what keeps me going, y'know?"
"I wanna be like you." Said Koishi, still holding on.
Marisa almost protested, but the words in this way echoed through her head, and she stopped herself. "Don't rush it so much, you."
"Eh?"
"It's not just 'you now' and 'you then'. Takes time to change, really. You can't do it all at once – even if you snap and try really hard, there's just a lotta things it takes time to get over."
"Yuyuko's been around for a long time, hasn't she?" Koishi finally let go, looking a little happier.
"Longer than anyone but Yukari really knows, yeah."
Koishi stretched, and then let out a yawn. "I'm tired," she said. "Today's heavy."
"Yeah, I getcha." Marisa stretched her arms for a moment. "Let's get you inside."
"Can I stay with you tonight?" Koishi asked – at this point, it was an odd formality, from her.
"Of course."
＊ ＊ ＊
Marisa found her thoughts wandering, as they so often did.
She'd taken a book to read – an old magical encyclopedia of sorts, appropriated from the Scarlet Devil Mansion's library – but she hadn't gotten through too many pages. Something about the quiet rhythm of Koishi's rest made it hard to keep alert.
That, and the fact Koishi's preferred resting place was on top of Marisa.
She didn't mind, of course. Koishi was small and warm, and when she slept here, she seemed to do so with some safety and happiness, and that alone was quite meaningful to the witch.
To Marisa, that odd joy sounded a lot like love.
Well, she was a while past hoping to deny it, at any rate.
Softly, she ran one hand through the sleeping satori's hair, and then began to drift off, as well.