Issei's gaze flickers from the urn to the flowers. He scouts back on his heels until he is at a respectable distance. They would need to grow into a freakish tree to be able to reach him. He would fancy more space between the dancing plants and himself, but that might be viewed as weak. Acting like a prey won't get him in the predator's good graces.
"The price of my help will depend on what you want, Miss." Issei smacks his lips and tries to not think about how the roots could come up from the ground to choke him for his words.
Nothing moves to assault him.
[So you do have some common sense.] Issei knows he isn't imagining the grating sound of scales grinding against each other. He knows the way Ddraig purrs is indeed real. Disgusted goosebumps still cover him. [Your mouth shall not taste her flowers yet.]
The flowers bow back into a circle. Their leaves brush against it each other and if their petals were black, Issei would think they are a gaggle of mystifying Japanese girls talking about mysterious, dangerous, no-boy-allowed subjects. Instead, they are colorful flowers who seem to be the mouth of a maybe dead goddess and they still make him feel small, boyish and flustered.
This time, his confusion doesn't have to do with his anxiety kicking in because he thinks they are laughing at him. The perplexity he feels as his eyes follow their graceful waltz has to do with their ability to murder him. How will they do it? Will they devour him alive? Will they swallow him like they did the water?
They turn their corollas toward him. A waterfall of petals faces him.
"Water," they rasp in unison.
Issei tilts his head. His right hand goes to his lips.
The creaks of an unhappy bow are the only thing that startles him fast enough to stop him from gnawing on his poor broken fingernails.
He remembers, like the dregs of a dream that linger, what he did when he was under the goddess's influence. He watered the urn. She probably wants him to do it again.
Issei, for all his heart beats faster, does not answer her plea quickly. He remembers she almost murdered him once already. She did so with an expedient that awakened the Sacred Gear in him, true, but without Ddraig's fondness for humanoid body parts, he would have had funky hair for his funeral. He remembers and he doesn't believe she only wants to be watered. Anyone could have done it, Sacred Gear or not. Why forcibly awaken his Boosted Gear?
Persephone, wife of Hades, has secrets and Issei only likes those he knows.
For now… he will talk before her patience takes a dive. "I will do it, but on one condition. Promise no harm will come to the family living on this land."
That's a bit vague, Issei realizes. There is more than one family living around these hills. "Families," he corrects hastily. "The families living here."
[I knew this miracle couldn't last.]
And what would you have asked for, oh great Red Dragon of Domination?
[For you? A brain.]
The flowers do not quiver nor move. The voice, now daintily feminine, floats in the air. "You have my word no harm will come to them as long as they do not wish harm to me." The urn gleams. The flowers turn a shade darker. "And as long as they do not help the God of Death find my new abode."
There is something serious here, something Issei needs to know because he does not want to be stuck between the god of 'goodbye life' and the goddess of 'I can choke you with plants'. Both can kill him. Both might kill him if he is on the way of their fights.
Unluckily, one of them decided to reside by his home. He will bargain with the one he can stand and hopefully, she won't level the entire countryside because his face does not comply with her aesthetics.
His father used to slap him out of the way when Issei was too close, straining his ears to listen to what his parents were arguing about behind closed doors. He was told to mind his business and had no desserts on those nights. Hades will not simply slap him out the way. The dude seems metal enough to slap him out of existence.
Issei has so many questions, but he will start with the easiest one.
"You want some food, Miss?"
He doesn't wait for the answer. He flips the box so the lid is against the ground. Slowly, he raises the box. A few grains of rice fall from the riceballs into the ground, but nothing rolls away. The scent of warm rice and vegetables swirls from the open lid.
The flowers shake from left to right and it is the only visual cue the boy receives. It also suffices to tell him the goddess does not care for the delicacies his grandma made with so much care. More for him, eh.
He bounces to a stand and crab walks his way to the gurgling river. For an unfathomable reason –ahaha, who is he kidding, the goddess has something to do with it for sure-, the stream that shouldn't even be licking his ankles is surging out of its bed, rapids forming around rocks where Issei laid once upon a time, drowning them in water.
Jumping into its small brook looks like a bad idea, however he might land and wherever he could put his feet. The soil smells like rain and looks soggy enough to have seen a tsunami or two. The whole brook looks ready to collapse and landslides into itself.
He kneels. His hand grips a large root that doesn't look too shabby. His back bends and his hand holding the box plunges into the roaring water.
He yelps.
The water is blood-curlingly cold. He walked in that. The fuzzy memory makes him shiver. His toes curl in the comfort of his shoes.
He rinses the box quickly and fills it with clear water. His fingers already feel like stiff sticks and Issei wonders if cold can make them fall off. Very movie-like, but his life is a repetitions of impossible events these days.
He tiptoes back to the frontier of the flowers' circle, watching the box and the water swirling in it. Stepping on them might incur death and no, no meeting the husband of the lady he just learnt the existence of is planned. He bends his waist and tries to gently tip the box so a steady trickle of water falls on the urn and surrounding flowers. He is quite sure watering flowers isn't supposed to be a synonym with dumping a load of water on them.
The trickle is swiftly renamed 'violent waterfall'. Freaking trembling, numb hands.
The goddess' controlled flowers, nonetheless, move towards the drops, greedily bending and straining their stem up to get as much as possible.
Issei tries to straighten a little so he isn't as close to the drinking –and yes, they're drinking. He can see the water flows through their stems as if they were swallowing. It's fascinatingly creepy. His movement doesn't get him father away; it only makes the water cascades from the box in one last brusque motion.
He steps back.
The flowers don't eat him.
That's good. Persephone didn't lie. She isn't going to murder him. Yet. Good. He will take that.
[Wimp.] Ddraig chimes in.
Issei ignores the Dragon in favor of the flowers controlled by a goddess and the urn in the center of magically moving plants. Persephone is the one who can alter their surroundings, clearly. Ddraig can mutter and be a grouch all he wants. Issei knows his priorities.
"Is that good?" he asks tentatively when the flowers stop gurgling water.
They take their time to answer. "Yes."
Issei sighs. He crumples back to his heels.
The sake bottle he abandoned by the riceballs sings a tempting tune. The sweet scent of rice and veggies is tempting his nerves and feelings. There's clearly nothing better than to eat his emotions while he is still alive.
[Don't drink on an empty stomach.]
Issei stuffs his mouth with a riceball. Drinking will have to wait.
A sneeze stops his jaw mid-bite.
Rice grains are slowly and painfully grinded down his throat. The only things that move are his eyes inside their sockets. A glance to the side is all he needs to know the source of the sneeze.
The bunny scrunches its little nose at him. Its white fur puffs in all directions and Issei would gladly bestow the title of 'cutest damn thing of the day' upon the creature if it hadn't spooked his heartbeat into silence for a solid 10 seconds.
I hate you, you fluffy sneezing machine.
Issei gulps down his mini-panick attack and the rest of his riceball.
The bunny hops to the bountiful lid and sniffs around without a care for the territorial hands that immediately hover protectively over the food. A wet little snout pokes Issei's horrifyingly scratched fingers. A little tongue licks his wounds.
It tickles.
The amused teen chooses a tiny potato in the heap of vegetables. It feels cooked just right between his fingers; neither crumbly nor too hard.
It goes into his left palm and he offers it to the snowball of a bunny.
The little animal blinks at his inhuman claw. It sniffs at it for second, his little black nose moving up and down like the wings of a hummingbird.
Oops.
Issei switches the hand that bears the round yellow legume.
The bunny immediately attacks. It nibbles on the steamed potato and Issei stops questioning the rules of the world. If a wild animal eat something, then it's good to go. It should know what's good for its health. Even more when it is clearly a supernatural being.
It's tiny tongue and teeth tickle his palm. Issei lets the potato rolls around in his grasp, watching as the bunny follows it with its open mouth.
(Issei noticed the way his fingers don't hurt anymore. He noticed how his hands appear to have been wounded a few days ago and not a few hours ago. New skin, pink and tender, is where hollow holes and flesh should be visible. He noticed how his nails aren't as cracked anymore.
He has many things to contemplate. However, luring the bunny with food is just a side-quest for now. An important side-quest. Anything that can help his mother gets back on her two feet is mightily valuable.)
The bunny finishes its meal. It leaves Issei's hand alone and hops back, sitting on its two rear legs. It mimics the teen admirably, paws crossed over its torso.
Issei flexes his pristine fingers. He grabs the sake bottle with it. No burning sensations come from his now seemingly perfectly polished nails. He pops the cap open and breathes in.
The scent of alcohol burns the inside of his nose.
He takes a sip. The sake bites his throat familiarly. He is back to the takoyaki shop offering sweet and salty treats, mingling with older people and hearing happy stories. He would like to hear one now. Something about a long awaited family reunion that was wholesome and full of hugs and happiness. Something that would put a warm light in his chest.
His chest is warm. The spot behind his ears is warming up at an alarming pace. The sake does its job and scorches its way to his stomach. His heart remains cold.
[The fact that you can be so distracted when you were terrified of Persephone a moment ago astounds me. Your stupidity seems to be limitless at this point.]
You see…
Issei glances up and smiles. Or at least tries. He doesn't know if he mastered the art of smiling when his life is on the line yet. "Was it all? Do you need anything else, Miss?"
I'm so scared, I forgot to be.
The flowers stand still. "I am surrounded by death."
The goddess claims she is surrounded by death. Funny how she led him to his own demise.
"It is winter," Issei offers. He can't change seasons magically. He can't do anything, magically-wise.
[I deplore your conversational skills.]
I deplore your inability to shut up.
A ray of the dying sun hits the urn. The grey facade turns a shade of orange. "I need life to surround me."
Issei screws the cap back on the bottle with his thumb. Life, life, life. What is life? What could be an emulation of life? What could he get her that would help 'surround her in life'? People? Animals? A pet? Issei eyes the bunny critically. Maybe he could attach it to the urn or something with a leash and a collar.
Ddraig sighs. [Plants. She wants plants.]
He lets the bottle of sake rests on his knee. That's not a bad idea. "Would a few winter plants help?"
The flowers start their dance anew. "It would suffice for now."
"Oh." Issei aims for another riceball. They're damn good. He will steal his grandma's recipe as soon as he is back home.
Scales move and a path of goosebumps covers the little human's back. [Dimwit, I believe you're forgetting something.]
What now?
[This is supposed to be a transaction.]
Issei blinks. Ah, yes. He looks at the bottle and decisively puts it down. The alcohol isn't helping him think at all. He just feels the flowers aren't as dangerous anymore. He feels the sun's dying rays are pretty and the day ends on a beautiful high note thanks to them. He feels the ground under him. The warmth it exudes lulls him into a tranquil trance.
He feels a lot. He is not sure he likes feelings that much.
"For the plants…" Issei trails off. He doesn't know how to phrase his words into a respectful demand. "What can you give me in exchange?"
He cringes at his own bluntness. Second embarrassment is real and it physically hurts.
The wind blows.
The colors of the flowers' corollas change with the light that shines briefly on the brook.
"I'll give you my blessing."
[Say yes.]
Issei looks up. He looks down. He squints at a random space. Why are they talking about blessing and why is Ddraig excited about it? If the lizard is happy, he cannot imagine how bad or how great the stuff is. Maybe both. His jolly and neighborly Dragon doesn't seem to care about his health. "You will bless me…?"
[You will receive powers over her domains. You will not be her Champion. Therefore, this is… the best thing that can happen to a worthless human with no magic and no way to use that filthy Twice Critical,] Ddraig whispers in his ears.
The flowers bow and he can only imagine a woman putting her hand under her chin, attentively waiting. "Do you accept, Issei Hayashi?"
Issei toys with the cap of the sake bottle. She wants more from him than plants. She wants more and this is just the beginning. Can he walk away with his life? What is the better option for him and his family? Should he accept? What are the consequences? Does he have to take a decision now?
The bow creaks a soothing tune in his ears. Ddraig remains silent. The trees watch.
Issei stands. "I do."
He bows.
The urn gleams. The rational part of his brain acknowledges there is no sunlight filtering through the leaves to make it so. The sun is hidden behind the hills now. The strange warmth that permeates the air still rests heavily on his shoulders.
The flowers shift into a slow pendulum movement. "Make haste, then."
Tick, tack.
Issei slowly climbs the trail that brings him back to his humble home. His boots meet frozen ground with a repetitive sound. Pebbles squeak under his soles, rolling down the slope as he advances. He doesn't see the holes he avoids nor the branches he stomps on. He barely registers the way nature loses its luster and lush with each of his steps. He is leaving warmth behind and going back to winter. There's a cluster of questions and information littering his mind. He can't focus. Time to tidy up the mess.
"Ddraig, what is Persephone the goddess of?"
[My name is not Encylopedia.]
Issei slows down his pace. This might take a while and talking aloud to someone his grandma and mom cannot see might bother them. Explaining he has an ancient and grouchy being in his head might also lead to an uncomfortable talk. "Oh. You don't know. Okay," he says innocently.
His pinkie-turned-claw tingles. [Spring. She also has power over the realm of the Dead, but that might have changed considering her predicament. ]
The teen cheerily hops over a branch. "Thank you, Ddraig."
[You are not welcome, you little scum.]
Issei beams. The Dragon caught up on his little trick, it seems. Pride is too easy to manipulate.
"Sooooo," the small human takes a sharp turn into a path he knows snakes its way to the top and will deliver him to his grandparents' footstep, "I will receive powers over nature?"
[Perhaps. However, I cannot say with certainty that you will be able to harness these powers, but this is better than just trying to survive with that horrendous Sacred Gear.]
The beaten path disappears into dry grass; leaving only hints of its existence by the way the plants have not overtaken the thin patch of weeds that cuts through the woods. Issei needs to watch where he puts his feet, now. The dying light of the sun does not help him navigate. Shadows are growing and they muddle his steps. He advances slowly, minding the bushes and the pinecones.
"She must be in a very tough spot to offer this," he muses. Voicing his thoughts aloud is strangely satisfying. It helps his mind defuse the bomb his stress can be.
[She is. Another reason to not trust her. Gods and goddesses are very much alike humans where they are cornered; both act like trapped animals.]
"Do you know why she could be unhappy with her… ex-husband?"
Hades does not seem enthused with people in his visions. He is not a cheerful one… he is a shadow that looms over all. He lurks and snarls and does not offer mercy to his enemies. His allies are not offered a better fate. It is strange to place his wife and her colorful flowers in his presence.
(Issei remembers vividly how the God of Death deemed Devils a pest. Another reason to never ever become a New Blood. He is going to go bald before his time if he has to deal with that amount of stress.)
[According to the hearsay, she was kidnapped by Hades and forced into marriage. Her mother's tantrum –Demeter takes care of life in its floral form- forced Zeus to reconsider the nuisance his brother had created. Normally, that perverted excuse of a god wouldn't have cared, considering his own habits with unmarried maidens. Finally, after humanity went through a long winter -I believe you humans call them ice ages-, Hades conceded his young wife leave his sides a few months each year. That is how the Ancient Greeks explained the seasons. They put emphasis on a goddess who did nothing but cry. In truth, the long winter was brought around by Nidhogg.]
His mind reels in all directions. "That's… bad. And too much information at once."
Ddraig snarls. [She was kidnapped by Hades. Staying in a territory devoid of life might have angered her, considering her domains of power.]
"Makes sense," Issei whispers. He steps on crunchy twigs.
He kidnapped her.
The pity Issei doesn't want to feel gnaws at his heart.
He clears his throat. Persephone went from blacklisted to maybe ally fast, but it is necessary. They will use each other and that will be the end of his worries with her. He feels what an ally should feel for his companions. He has effectively sided with Persephone. They share the same enmity for Hades, now.
He needs to be prepared if the god ever comes around. Maybe he won't. How important could a married squabble be for him? He isn't the god of marriage or fertility. He ensures immortality stays out of humanity's reach and that's it. Right?
"What about Hades? Does he lord over other domains beside Death?"
[He isn't the God of Death, dimwit,] Ddraig immediately retorts. [He oversees the kingdom of the Dead, the passage of souls towards their Hell and Heaven and the punishments and rewards given to souls.]
Issei loves the way the Dragon condescendingly explains everything. One more insult and Issei will miss school and his bullies. They were less witty and certainly not residing in his head. "Meaning?"
[He will not come to the Human realm. His subordinates are in charge of collecting souls.]
The deal he made with Persephone does not weight as harshly on his shoulders as it did a minute ago. "This is safe deal. He will not come here without a good reason."
The Dragon hums in accord. [As long as nobody dies by her urn, you will be fine. The Supernatural will not approach her willingly, considering her status. Keep your mouth shut and Hades shall not come forth.]
Issei steps over a cluster of weeds. He can see the walls of his house now in the dark twilight.
"I think I like you a lot more now," he confesses. It's true and it doesn't hurt to voice it. Maybe Ddraig will care about his health if they can develop a friendly link of sort.
[You are my bearer. It is in my best interest that you do not die a ridiculous death at the hand of a pitiful goddess. It would give me a bad reputation. Furthermore, I dislike her husband.]
Well, that had been almost touching until it wasn't.
[The plants will probably help her get her strength back. You must be ready if she ever strikes you down. Learn from her, learn what she can do, and when she strikes, the Damocles sword you shall put over her head shall fall.]
The teen stops where the woods regretfully regress into a proper garden. A star twinkles over the horizon. "Do you think she would attack me? She gave her word."
[Words are easy to twist, especially for old beings.]
Issei watches the trees bend with a sudden gust of wind. He puffs white air out. Spring hasn't reached the top of the hills.
"One last thing." Issei rests his back against a tree. The cold exuded by the ground make shivers run across his skin. His bare tree is a poor protection against the biting wind, but he makes do. He still has much to mull over and a pressing question he needs answered.
"How does this communication work? Do you hear everything I think? Do you see what I see?" That would suck to a level Issei cannot even explain with words. His privacy –his visions- would be naught but an open TV channel for an old Dragon to amuse himself with.
[No. I do not have contact nor can see the outside world. Neither do I hear your thoughts. I see… fragments. Your thoughts reach me as images.]
His shoulders unclench. He didn't even know he was so tense. The tree squeaks against his weight. "Like a video?"
[I do not understand what you mean.]
Issei bites his lip. How can he explain what a video is? Think, Issei. You have a brain, use it."Do the images move and are… a continuation from each other? Are they linked?"
[Hmmm.] Issei waits. His chapped lip bears the brunt of his fears. [Rarely. You do not concentrate on an idea very long. Whatever plan you had for the bunny, I did not see anything beyond you catching it brutally. The longest 'videos' I've seen are the ones where you die. You have quite the imagination when it comes to plants.]
"Oh." That's good. That's so good. He has privacy. He has a place where he can hide his secrets. He can hide his visions. He can keep under the radar the things he hasn't told to anyone, not even to his family. There's a difference between telling his mother and grandma how he found a cure and announcing he has visions of things that do not exist.
Issei glances down and looks at the pebbles on the ground. So grey. So round. So nice. He must think about the quite nice pebbles now.
Another question swims to the surface of his consciousness.
"Ddraig, what is a Champion?"
[I see you cannot keep your word when it comes to questions, dimwit.]
Issei relaxes some more. The bark of the tree digs into his coat. He might get used to be called names, if it means he will get answers after. "It's the very last one, I swear."
A warm breath hits his nape. Issei tenses. Spring hasn't reached the peak. The trees are bereft of green and life. Does the wind come from the valley?
[A Champion is a human chosen by the gods. They represent them on the earth, so to speak. In truth, they do the menial jobs the gods find below their station. The rewards are never worth living as a glorified slave.]
Ddraig wheezes another breath and it inexplicably becomes real against his wielder's cheeks. [Had she offered that, I would have forbidden any further exchange with her.]
Issei nods. "Thanks for looking out for me."
[Hmph. Thank me by training and unlocking my Boosted Gear.]
The human boy smiles. "Yes. I will follow your guidance, Red Dragon Emperor of Domination."
Ddraig makes a noise that sounds like a tired exhale. [We shall begin tomorrow. You may rest tonight.]
The wielder of the Twice Critical, soon to be replaced by the Boosted Gear, cheers.
The teen saunters to the doorstep of his house. He wants his bed and supper. He will get none before he chats with his mother and grandmother, he knows. That's pretty okay, though. He likes talking with his mother. She talks back. About the topic at hand. Genuinely interested and invested in what's being said, adding her grain of salt and listening intently to everything he has to say. When was the last time she did that?
A long, long time ago. Hell, his… the man she married was maybe still around when that last happened. Before he went to the Underworld and-
And he doesn't want to think about the Underworld anymore. Been there, done that. The past is the past and the present is far more delicious. He will savor what he has now. He is going to enjoy every little second, every little expression and pout she makes till the day he dies. One should never take a miracle lightly.
The branch he used to climb the hills is where he left it, lying by the threshold. He rights it against the wall. "You're a good branch."
That's where he notices it. His hands are empty.
"Ah." Issei, you're not a good branch.
Of course, he had to forget them with the spooky flowers.
The door opens. Light floods the exterior and he can't see anything because that just about blinded him. "Issei?"
He squints. That human form is either a very well made statue, either his beloved grandmother is standing here. "It's me, Grandma."
His grandma tugs her cardigan closer. "Come in, then. And close that door quickly, will you. It's too cold outside for my old bones."
He does as he is told, kicking his boots away in the same movement.
"So?" she asks anxiously.
Issei takes the time to observe her messy braid and shining white locks before he talks. It's nice to have a human around. It's nice to be able to talk with a human. It's definitely better than talking with flowers and a dead goddess about her marital problems.
"I forgot the container and the bottle," he starts.
Chiasa sweeps the comment and loss of her precious sake away with the flat of her hand. "Pff, that's not important! What happened down there? Who is she? What does she want?"
Her braid shakes with her jaunty steps a moment later. "Nevermind, let's go to the living room. Hikari is in there. It's better to discuss everything there."
He trails behind her large steps, minding his limbs so he doesn't collide against her small slippers or step on them and make them all fall. Her bones are probably fragile at her age and he has seen enough hospitals and doctors for a lifetime. Plus, the berating he would receive would probably be legendary. She has her little temper, his dear grandma.
Therefore, he doesn't bump into her when she abruptly stops at the entrance of the living room. One moment later, she throws herself at the couch with an agility rarely seen in someone in her 60's.
Issei stays standing, his arms dangling by his sides.
His mother smiles and the whole room lights up with a warm light. "You're okay?"
"I am." He nods.
Chiasa waves at him. "Look at him, Hikari. He still has all of his limbs and his head is attached to his neck. He is alright."
Issei is not going to comment on that. Indeed, he is in one piece. The panic attacks he may or may not have had are in the past now. The flowers and how he pictured they would kill him are in the valley, by a lonely brook that's overflowing. Everything is fine, here.
"She wants plants," he announces. His fluster at announcing such a weird thing is met with incredulity.
"Plants?" Hikari repeats softly.
He shuffles until his shoulder touches the wall. He relaxes against it. "She is the goddess of spring and she needs..." Issei cringes at the weirdness of the words he must repeat, "life to surround her. So she needs plants."
His grandmother squints. "Is she Kono-Hana-Sakuya-Hime?"
Issei tilts his head. Who?
"Isn't that the Goddess of the Mount Fuji?" Hikari chimes in.
"She is also the goddess of spring," Chiasa shots back.
"No. The goddess by the brook is the Greek goddess of spring." Issei decides to cut out the whole 'her husband, maybe ex, is the lord of the Dead' mumbo jumbo. He can totally keep that information for a later reveal. Like, when he is dead. Nobody needs to know that kind of useless little thing, anyway.
Chiasa throws a nut in her mouth. She munches on it thoughtfully. "Oh. The one who was abducted by the god of Death?"
There goes his hope he could silence that part of the story. Damn Hades and his infamous story. "How do you know that?"
"I read books, Issei. Do you?"
He glimpses at his mother stifling a chuckle behind her hand like the traitor she is. Aren't grandmas supposed to be loving and caring and totally biased towards their grandchildren? Issei wants a refund.
"Not that kind of books, I guess."
The pointed looks he gets from his family firmly brings him back to his science class and how his teachers awkwardly broached reproduction and the organs used for it. Apparently, those things weren't only made to be spoken off in soft tones, behind your hands, hidden under a boulder.
(Sadly, the perverted version of himself knows way too much useless facts about the XX chromosone bearers, like their sizes- and even that, Issei is not too sure what to make of. Normal people don't compliment girls on their sizes, right…? Girls don't like boys talking about their weight. Why would they appreciate someone talking about their sizes? Isn't it the same thing? Issei is confused.)
He coughs in his hand. He needs to rein his wandering mind in before he starts another debate with himself about the utility of his life. Or his doppelganger's uselessness.
He catches the way the thin broken threads of his mother's tuque catches the light and turn incandescent. They change colors, going from red to orange to dark pink, mixing with the white threads.
Pink…?
[You are thinking about a pink book she read.]
Japanese trees and how to take care of them.
"Mom," Issei calls and she looks at him with clear eyes and isn't that wonderful? "Do you know what kind of plants we could bring her?"
She tilts her head, red tuque covering the peach fuzz that's starting to cover her pale head. "A Japanese Quince would be good as a year-long shrub..."
Chiasa humphs. "It will not be able to take root. The ground is frozen."
"Grandma, she is the goddess of spring. It feels like spring down there. The ground isn't frozen," Issei chides back. Don't talk that way to my mother.
"What else, mom?" he asks with a gentler timbre.
"The Christmas Rose. It's a flower that blooms in midwinter in good conditions. I can't remember the real name… Helle-… " Hikari looks down, her gaze glued to her wriggling hands.
Issei wants to jump on her and tell her she did awesome and she is awesome. He jumps to his mother's side to hold her hand. Words do not come out.
His grandmother chuckles. "In times like this, Internet is a wonderful tool."
This time, Issei is truly flabbergasted. "We have wifi here?"
Chiasa smiles. "Even better! I have a laptop."
"Seriously?"
Chiasa turns her head slowly towards her grandson. Her braided hair seems to break free from her coiffure to form a makeshift mane around her head. "In which century do you think I live, Issei?"
Issei toys a thin crevasse that runs through the parquet with his big toe. Speaking his mind might result in getting burnt food for supper and he is starving. Talking with a dragon and a goddess is absolutely tiring. Better keep it safe.
(The cold sweat running along his spine is just… stress. His grandmother is not putting the fear of old grannies in his soul with her blank expression. It's okay. It's okay. He won't have nightmares. He won't.)
He glimpses at her shaking shoulders and he knows she is making that strange laugh where no sounds come out of her mouth. It's like a happy exhalation. His tongue pokes against the flesh of his cheeks. He will let it slide. "Is there any flowers shop close by?"
"No. But friendship exists for a reason."
Issei and Hikari glance at each other. "What reason?" the grandson asks tentatively.
"Using each other," the grandmother shots back.
Of course. Issei wants to judge his grandmother's values and morals, he really does. However, an unnamed part of his brain considers her words and comes to the conclusion that he agrees.
"I know one old man who steals my mushrooms every year because we are 'friends'. He has a greenhouse. I'm sure we will find a few plants that aren't too shabby there."
Issei and his mother exchange a long, meaningful glance. Hyoudou Chiasa is one of a kind. And that's putting it lightly.
"Issei, go in the pantry and get me some of the jars labeled as 'peach jam'."
The boy scrunches his brow. "What are those for?"
"Bribery." She flees to the door on that note.
Issei and Hikari do not question the cackles they can hear coming from her vicinity. His mother pats his hand. "Go. Don't make her wait."
"Okay. See you soon." He does not sneak a kiss on her cheek, but he does squeeze her hand for a second.
Issei trails after his mad ancestor, leaving the warmth of the living room for the windy hallway. "Grandma."
She stands by the door and that is where he sees her punching her hand into the sleeve of her coat. "What now?"
He raises his left hand. "My pinkie is a claw."
"You thought I didn't think about it?" She scoffs.
Chiasa throws a pair of gloves to his face. "There you go. Put them on and off we go!"
His grandmother waddles her way to the town, nestled in the valley of hills.
He remembers rolling hills and never-ending fields all too clearly when he stares at the surrounding darkening landscape. With a shudder, he walks faster to join his grandmother. She trots and hops and he has troubles keeping up.
She knocks on the second door they see after they enter the main and only street of the town. Issei isn't even sure if it has an official name an at this point, he is a bit too terrified to ask.
The door is opened a few moments later. The smiling man who holds the door open loses his joy when he sees the older Hyoudou. He actually makes a face. "Why are you here, Chiasa?"
"Hello, you old coot." Chiasa pushes him out of the way and enters. She waves at Issei until the boy realizes he has to come in too. "This is my grandson, Issei. As you can see, he is a bit slow. I think I showed you pictures of him, once. You know, the chubby baby who drooled all over a book."
The old man shakes his head. He opens his mouth to say something to the intruders who barged into his house. Chiasa doesn't let him riposte. "That's okay if you don't remember. He will be staying with me from now on, so you will see him often."
Issei wonders how many houses his grandmother wants him to invade before she is satisfied. He knows he is partly mortified, partly amused. The fact that that their interlocutor is older than both of them combined and physically impaired is why he is mildly horrified by their actions. The fact that the old man grumbles and throws back roasts at his grandmother soothes his worries that they will be cuffed by the police tonight.
Chiasa pats the teenager's arm. "My dear Issei absolutely loves plants. What do you have in that greenhouse of yours?"
The old man immediately crosses his right arm across his chest. His left hand stays down, holding unto a cane. He leans on that side slightly and his whole body seems to tilt, Issei notices. "I'm not selling my plants."
"I'm not selling my mushrooms and yet I see them in your pantry." She raises her hand and her index points at his nose menacingly. "Don't you dare say it's different."
The old man scrunches his nose. His impressively bushy eyebrows form a line over his wrinkled eyes. He sniffs.
The eldest Hyoudou is undeterred. "Have a heart, Koji! My boy is thirteen and he wants to learn. I know you don't get much help from your sons when they're around. He will come and help you!"
Wait what?
"He will come help…" the old man repeats and there's a dangerous light in his eyes that speaks of slavery.
Ah, yes. His grandmother is selling his time now. Without asking first if he was comfortable with it or not. What about being lazy and a good son, staying at home and learning recipes?
(The argument that he can do both things at the same time is not acknowledged. Issei seeks laziness and pajamas days with all his soul.)
His grandma fishes in her bag and takes out the jar of peach jam.
Koji glances at the glistening glass jar full of an orange delicacy. He makes a face between love and disgust. It looks nasty, yet Issei observes. It seems he has a lot to learn from his grandmother. "Only one plant. And I want him in my garden every Monday and Friday morning, before school."
Chiasa jiggles the jar around. "Two plants and one morning."
"Don't play tough. I just need a bit of help moving things around. My back isn't what it used to be," Koji massages his back with a grumble. His cane hits the ground heavily as he shuffles.
Issei sees a bare hallway behind him and nothing else.
Hyoudou Chiasa doesn't relent. She glares.
Koji shrivels. Even Issei freaking scrambles to the side to not meet her gaze heads on.
The older human in the room lets his bushy eyebrows separate. He smacks his lips. "Okay, okay. One morning and two plants. You know the way."
The old lady hands the old man the jar of jam. She lets go when he tugs at her hand and he all but curls around it. It looks like the villainous character in that popular franchise who is obsessed with a ring he calls his Precious. Pale, shriveled and always seeking and desiring his precious Precious.
Koji is neither pale nor shriveled, but the two fit nonetheless.
The old man pops the jar open with a good twist. He sniffs and yes, his eyes glaze over.
Chiasa drags her grandson by the shoulder through the house before he can see more disturbing scenes. The last image he has of the man he will see once a week is him eating a spoonful of jam with a toothy grin. It looks like an addict getting his fix.
Issei is not sure he wants to try his grandmother's jams anymore. It appears to be a bit too dangerous for his health.
They end up in a hallway that leads them to a glass door. That door they pass without missing a beat.
Issei blinks. He breathes in.
His eyes take a moment to acclimatize themselves to the artificial light. His skin is prickled by the sudden warmth that envelops him. He is yet against surrounded by flowers. A jungle tended to by a man whose steady hands made it into a paradise of sort. The facts that he struggles to walk straight and is addicted to peach jam make it even more impressive to gaze at. His kingdom sprawls in all directions, somehow arranged by colours and types, yet it retains a certain wildness. These plants… don't dance nor talk. Tame flowers, in a way. Tame is strangely boring.
The teen scans the crowd of flowers and plants. He overlooks the wall of cactus without a second thought. He isn't going to offer a thorny, sad plant to his new ally. It would be insulting and he is not seeking to be pricked to death. Plus, transporting the pot to Persephone's little abode would be difficult. Their thorns should stay in place and certainly planted in his flesh.
He wanders in an alley, long leaves and flowers brushing against his coat constantly. He abandons all hopes of avoiding their touches and simply twirls on his toes, searching for the 'Christmas Rose' and the 'Quince' they looked at on the Internet. His eyes can barely see over some of the lush flora his gaze encounters.
His grandmother trails after him, checking each side slowly after him in case his sight missed what they desire.
"If he doesn't have what your mother suggested, just take two random pots." She bends over pink camellias. "These look good."
"You're not taking my camellias, you witch." Koji appears in their alley, his limp and cane ever present. The jar of peach jelly is cradled in his free arm.
Chiasa makes a face. She tilts the head of a rosy camellia gently, challenging her friend with wiggling eyebrows. "You didn't specify that when we struck the deal."
"And I'm specifying now." He scoffs. "If you had brought your plum jam, it might have been a different story."
The youngest person in the greenhouse steps forward before the conversation takes a strange turn again. He has seen and heard enough for a day. "Do you have," he mentally checks his list of acceptable gifts for a goddess in a pot, "a Quince? And Christmas Roses?"
Koji pokes his cheek with his tongue. It makes a bulge in his weathered face. "I could give you… Do you want a bonsai Quince or a shrub?"
I have no idea. "It's for outside…?" Issei feels his good ol' friend the flush appears on his face. Gotta love being embarrassed.
The old man does not comment on the fact that a boy who is supposed to love gardening cannot answer a rather simple question. "I see. My Quince is outside; I will give you a few clippings. As for the Helleborus, it has been years since I last planted some. They're too much work. And poisonous to boot."
"Ah." Normal flora can be dangerous too. He will keep that in mind next time he angers his mother. She wouldn't poison him, but he knows her enough to know she might list all the ways he can die frothing at the mouth because of a mushroom.
(He remembers how she made him fear Australia and the emus living down there. How the freak did they win a war against a military force? He is never going to visit that country ruled by kick-boxing kangaroos and spiders as big as a coconut. No, nein, nope, not happening.
Issei ignores with vigor the draconic chuckle that rings in his ears.)
A glimpse of lavender catches his eyes. He steps towards the end of alley, where the wall of deadly cacti starts. He bends over long, springy pillar of lavender flowers. The towers stand, made of small blooming flowers that are entwined all the way to the top. Their tips tickle his skin. He basks in a smell he cannot really name.
The tap of a cane follows him. "Ah, you have good eyes. My snapdragons are beautiful this year, eh."
The student in gardening rights himself. "Snapdragons?"
"Nice name, eh. Bumblebees love them to bits. Tetsuya makes a delicious honey with my snapdragons," Koji declares with a proud smile.
Fitting name indeed, the wielder of the Boosted Gear muses.
Chiasa humphs in Koji's back. "Tetsuya makes honey with all our flowers, not just yours."
Koji hits the ground with his cane. "Shush, woman."
Issei has made a decision. "I'm going to take the clippings and a pot of Snapdragons."
The older man smiles. It shows off a lot of teeth that aren't white. "You know how to take care of them?"
His hesitant silence leads to the gardener sitting down with a laugh and launching a dizzying lecture on fertilizer, sun exposition, blooms, mushrooms and the quality of the soil. His newly appointed apprentice feels obligated to take notes and asks questions when he isn't sure he understand. The information might interest his mother, after all. He doesn't care much for flowers or plants, but he might need the information himself if Ddraig is right and he receives power over nature. He probably won't be able to just snap his fingers and have flora sprouts from the ground, strong and healthy. Magic can't be that convenient.
His grandmother, on the other hand, looks bored out of her mind. She pokes cactus' thorns to pass the time. Koji yelps at her from time to time and she shots back comments about his back and poor health. It's all very entertaining as long as Issei doesn't get embroiled in the elderly bickering.
"Enough, enough. There's a limit to how much you can teach him in one evening," Chiasa finally raises her hands in defeat when she has messed with the entire wall of cacti.
Issei's relief at finally being released from his teacher's clutch is a bit cooled when he sees that he will indeed be the one to carry everything –the clippings and the snapdragon- up the hill.
They leave Koji with a promise of being punctual on Issei's side and a promise of pain on Chiasa's side if 'you dare bully my grandson'. Both men refuse to comment on that. The youngest even avoids musing about how his dear spitefire of a grandmother would punish the man who kindly let them rob his beloved garden.
Once the duo is outside, enveloped in the dim light of the stars, Issei breathes happily in the biting cold. He craddles his hard-earned snapdragons and Quince closer. It was too warm to wear a coat in that green house. The elder trots forward and the younger one jogs to march next to her. "Why do you want me to come help him?"
Chiasa doesn't slow down. Her braid snakes its way out of scarf thanks to her brisk steps. "Ise, we have a Spring goddess in our backyard who requires plants. Want it or not, we will all have to learn about them to take care of them. Plus, you will be able to take a few plants when old Koji isn't watching."
Issei, yet again, finds himself judging his paternal grandma's values. There's actual a bit of concern mixed in now. "That's stealing."
Chiasa laughs. "It's your salary. Everyone should get one when they work for somebody else."
There's something wrong here. The teen cannot pinpoint the problem, but dang, his grandmother makes a lot of sense- she is definitely a hoodlum. And wrong. Yes. He mustn't fall in her pit of sins.
At the fork at the foot of the hill leading to their home, Issei turns without a word to go meet the goddess. The faster he gets there, the better. Persephone awaits him. His bed also awaits him and Issei yearns for it.
A hand tugs his coat backward. "Where do you think you're going?"
"To see Persephone." He adjusts his grip on the pot and the clippings. "I have the plants. The clippings won't live long if they aren't planted soon."
Chiasa shakes her head. "You will need a shovel, dear."
"Ah, that's true." Issei stumbles back to her side. His bed becomes a far away fantasy. I will also need a lamp. The woods are menacingly dark and he doesn't fancy falling face first and squishing his precious gifts while travelling down there.
"Issei, what do you do in your spare time?"
The teen blinks. That's a strange question. He needs a moment to recall what he did in his spare time, besides scheming his way out of a beating at school or making money. "I read mangas…"
That sounds so much like a question, he feels obligated to cringe.
Chiasa finally decides to slow down and walk at a speed that doesn't make his legs ache. "No sports? I thought you liked running? You won a medal two years ago in the district competition."
Issei hums. He did enjoy burning his lungs, once upon a time. It did help running away from Tomou and his goons. "I was better at high jump."
(Until he crashed against a small wall while he was running away and got kicked in the ribs an alarming amount of times. He still went home with a smile on his lips. He had to keep it up. Otherwise he would have cried a river about his life and his mother wouldn't have been able to understand.)
Chiasa chuckles at his comment. "I know. None of the other kids could do the 1.50 meter. It was impressive to see."
He puffs up his chest without meaning to. What a great accomplishment it had been. Except no one who counted in his life had been there to watch it. Wait. Wait. How do you know that? "You were there?"
His grandmother stares at him. The dim light of the full moon illuminates her shining white hair when she nods slowly. "Yes. I watched you."
Issei squarely walks into a hole. His ankle burns. He doesn't care. "I didn't know."
"That's because I didn't tell your parents I was there. Ichika absolutely wanted to see you, so I took a really nice video of you doing the high jump. The photos I took of you while you were running are blurry, however. My camera was not the best," Chiasa explains softly. Her voice loses its rough edge as it dims into a whisper.
Her grandson licks his dry lips. His tongue finds a bump in his inner bottom lip and his teeth immediately start gnawing his flesh. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to disturb you. I've been told athletes need to focus all their energy on what they're doing," Chiasa nods wisely and it would sound very convincing and wise if it didn't sound so fake. She isn't one to appear sensible. She isn't one to care about weird customs.
She is the type who hugs the breath out of him, whether he wants it or not. He learnt to love it.
"That day." Issei searches for the right word to use to talk about the piece of shit who's part of his family tree. He settles for his name. "Gorou wasn't there. He didn't come to the competition."
"Why?"
The teen shrugs. "I don't know. He said he would be there and then he didn't show up. Mom worked that day so she wasn't there either."
The elder woman looks in the distance. The light of the frontdoor shines faintly in the woods. "It seems I really didn't raise him right."
Would I be heartless if I agree?
His throat clenches on air. "I would have been happy to see you and grandpa," he admits softly.
His grandmother shakes her head and his heart skips a beat. "Your grandfather wasn't with me. He was in the hospital. His heart had acted up."
Relieved and horrified to be relieved -because who gets happy about learning their grandfather was in the hospital and that's why he couldn't show up, it's not that he doesn't care-, Issei does not know what expression to show. "I'm sorry."
A gloved hand pats his arm. "Don't be. It's not your fault."
"Did grandpa like the video you took of me?" Issei, Issei, why are you asking this, you know he loved you, you know this affecting her, why are you so selfish?
Chiasa laughs and his malevolent thoughts crumble at his feet. "He said he had never seen someone jump as well as you did. He showed it to all the nurses he could catch."
"That sounds like him," Issei chuckles. His feet feel light. The stars shine brightly.
Again, her gloved hand touches his forearm. They come to a halt. This time, it stays in place and squeezes gently. "He was proud of you. I am too."
Issei nods.
He doesn't comment on the soft sniffs he hears coming from her side. She doesn't comment on the ones coming from his side. He huddles closer. She rests her head against his shoulder. He puts a trembling hand on her shaking shoulder.
"I should have come to see you during your competition," she suddenly mutters against his coat. "We could have taken a picture together… that would have made him so happy. I could have cheered for you from the families' benches. We could have gone to see him together. You could have had fun playing go with him."
He brings her in his embrace with his free hand.
It's awkward and he wishes his mother was there to help him, but he doesn't chicken out and successfully pats her head with all the gentleness he can muster. He channels every bit of affection he holds in his heart. "It's okay, Grandma. You were there."
She muffles a sob against his coat. The Quince clippings are squished but Issei doesn't care anymore about the bloody plants. They can go to Hell to meet the husband of Persephone and spill everything about her for all he cares.
His grandmother is crying. The world is walking on its head. It's not right and Issei will cuddle her if he has to.
"It's okay, it's okay," he whispers. He has so many words stuck in his throat and he doesn't know how to voice them. His hand pats her hat gently. "You did well, grandma. It's okay."
Chiasa suddenly steps back. She sniffs. "Gorou and us… it was complicated. Your father… my son has his temper and so did we. I wish it wouldn't have affected you so much."
"It's okay. I wasn't the only one who suffered." That was not the best thing to say, Issei realizes. Especially when he notices the tear tracks on her face. "It's all in the past. We're here now. We're family and we look after each other, no matter what."
He squeezes her hand with all the affection he has so much trouble to voice into something his loved ones can make sense of. "I forgive you. And I hope you forgive me for all the things I put you through."
He did so many things that were just downright shitty to his important family members. He lied, he schemed, he disappeared, he threatened… the list is growing longer the more he thinks about it. He is no better than Gorou.
"You silly bun." She sniffs one last time. One moment later, she flicks his nose through her glove. It doesn't hurt. It feels more like a gentle boop. "I should be the one saying that."
"I believe I need to explain a few things to you." She steps forwards and beckons him with her hand. "Come on, we will walk while we walk. Let's not make your mother wait more than necessary."
Issei grasps the plants with both hands. He walks behind her, drying the water that came out of his eyes unwillingly.
She clears her throat. "Gorou wanted to be an artist."
The teen clenches his jaw. That's new. Where will this story lead them? He wants to know very little about the man who abandoned him and his mother. It better not be a story that will soften him. He wants a heart made of freaking granite when it comes to the man.
"He hated this town because it was too small and he wouldn't be able to live thanks to his craft here. He painted sceneries and people. People liked it well enough, but they weren't going to pay fortunes for it. And Gorou wanted to be famous and rich and everything a young man wants to be."
Sounds ambitious. Sounds like his degenerate of a father alright.
Chiasa's braid dances with a sudden gust of wind. She halts to let her grandson joins her. They walk side by side. "Ichika and I couldn't pay for his entrance in an art academy and he wasn't talented enough to get a scholarship."
Her head moves from side to side. Issei watches and listens intently. "In the end, we tried to convince him to try something else. We helped him get a certificate in accounting."
That explains his current job. The young Hayashi had never seen the man hold a brush in his 13 years of existence. He was probably really shitty.
"I don't think he ever forgave us," Chiasa finishes softly.
Issei glares at an imaginary picture of Gorou. He also stabs him. In his mind. He wouldn't exactly spit at the idea if he could do in reality too, though. "It wasn't your fault."
"For him, it was. He hated the fact that we couldn't fund his dream. It was our fault we weren't rich enough and needed him to have a stable income because we didn't want to let him live with us forever."
So he sponged off his parents and blamed them for being a useless NEET? Impressive. Issei, needless to say, stabs his grandmother's son harder in his mind.
Chiasa hesitates, mouth not quite closed nor open. She stares at her only family member left in the world who cares a bit about family and love. She sighs and whispers. "For my son, his marriage was also our fault."
Issei doesn't quite believe his ears, because if they heard right, he has to commit murder. The question is not why, the question is how. Does he need a rope or a bat? What would hurt more? What would put the fear of a scorned son in his eyes as he bleeds out?
"What do you mean?" Issei snarls. He has to make sure. He has to make sure because he needs to start planning right away if she confirms what he believes she did whisper.
Chiasa sighs. Her hand flies to her braid and she holds it still as the wind howls around them. The gust bites and hurts. "Your mother was an artist when they met. And contrary to him, she had a reputation and contracts. Ichika thought she was out of his league and said so. Gorou took it as personal challenge and your mother and he were married two years later."
"Does my mom know?" that her husband married her out of spite?
Chiasa throws her head back and stares at the sky. A beat. Two beats. Three beats. "She does."
The anger rules over his acts. A moment later, he kicks pebbles away with a roar. "And you ask that I forgive him?"
A silence. A crow caws in the distance. "Issei…"
"No! No." He sobers up as quickly as he raged. "You're asking for too much and you know it."
He leaves her at the elbow of the road, stomping the gravel and his father's face. He will die. He will die, one way or another. A human being who behaves that lowly needs to be taught a lesson. A human whose values mean so little the leader of the Fallen Angels actually seem to be an okay guy when compared to him needs to learn. A lesson written in pain and blood. His forsook his own blood, abandoned a woman he promised to take care of, never loved the child he had with her-
Another thought assaults him, surfacing from his scrambling memories. He twists towards his grandmother. The harsh movement sends his free hand flying. Disaster and a slap on her face are missed by an inch. He isn't in control.
Calmdown, calmdown
He dries whatever is coming out of his eyes. His hand is cold against his fuming forehead.
"I never saw either of them hold a brush." The boy ruffles his hair. He catches a few strands and pulls.
Chiasa smacks her lips, keen gaze never leaving his face. A grimace adorns her weathered face and she has never looked so old. "Gorou deals in absolute. We refused him something, so he decided to abandon it completely."
Dread dries his mouth. He swallows sand. "Why did she stop? If she was successful, why did she?"
She holds his smoldering gaze. "I don't know. You will have to ask Hikari."
Issei covers his eyes. The hand who cradles the pot and the clippings crush them against his torso. It brings no relief to the crushing realization that his family life is beyond repairs. Why is everything so fucked? He wanted one goddamn moment of respite and fucking Persephone, Ddraig and his family decided to play with his entrails and haunt his every moment waking moment like it's a fun game. He doesn't enjoy this. He doesn't enjoy this at all. Can't they go hurt someone else for once? "…so miserable."
Chiasa steps into his bubble of misery. "Ise."
He presses his hand against his skin harder and wonders if he could rip it off with his claw.
Freezing cold gloves touch his face. They cover the little protection he put between himself and the rest of the world. "Ise, look at me."
He shakes his head. He forces his eyes to stay closed.
One by one, she pries his fingers away from his face. His arm falls by his side. His gaze goes to the horizon, sets on seeing and hearing nothing.
She takes off her gloves. Her hands go back to his face and now, he is the one being embraced. She cradles his head gently. Unwillingly, his attention is caught and he listens when she murmurs as she pets his hair. "Your mother and I are here. Gorou is never going to come here. He will not hurt you ever again as long as I'm alive and standing in this land. We're here and we will make sure nothing like what happened in that Devil's land happens to you ever again. You're safe here."
He blinks. Somehow, his body decides nuzzling her hand is the best option of them all.
"I'm so tired," he admits. "I'm so tired, Grandma."
"I know, I know." Grandma pushes a few locks of his hair out of his visage. "You will rest here. No more bloody adventures to save the day. You will be safe here."
"As for being miserable," his grandma starts and there's a twinkle in her eyes that speaks of mischief, "Gorou did embody the tortured artist during his teenage years. When he was fifteen, he announced he was a vegetarian. During dinner. While he was eating pork cutlets."
Issei laughs against his grandma's glove. He can see she's trying to cheer him up and it's endearing. He will do his part. "He wasn't a vegetarian for long."
The corners of her lips quirk up into a wicked smile. "He wasn't."
Somehow, laughing about it makes Issei feels lighter. Hyoudou Gorou is on his blacklist, as usual. It is not a blacklist he will be able to leave in this lifetime, unlike Persephone. More than that, he wants to believe with all his heart that Hayashi Issei is going to be okay. All the Hayashis and the sole Hyoudou who's important will be okay.
"I still have some of his works," Chiasa says softly. Issei jolts in her embrace. "A few of Hikari's too."
He grabs her hand with a sudden fervor. "You will show me?"
"No need to ask, my dear." She takes his free hand in her own and tugs him forwards. "Let's go. Hikari is waiting."
Happy New Year!
(We're still in January, I can legally wish you happiness for the next 365 days.)
I blame my reviewers for the length of this upload. 11k of pure love and emotions just for you, my dear readers. You are all sweethearts and I would definitely destroy my black doing blackflips for your words, but I would do it anyway if I ever see any of you. Shoutout to surya25addanki for being such a supportive reviewer (the madlad/madlass left a review on almost every chapter). Amatsumi, Cadelorbe12 and Five-Star Marth are also regulars around here. Thanks to Rosso Angelo and Galaghiel for the longest reviews I've ever seen (Galaghiel, if you ever read this, just know this: if you wanna talk about the story or anything, hit me up.). I could do so many more shoutouts about so many people who gave me ideas or just made me feel like this was worth writing, but I wouldn't be done anytime soon.
So, there! Shoutout to all the madlads and madlasses who left a review!
You are the best.
I wish you the best year ever.
My muse told me to slow down (I began writing the next chapter before I even started this one, eheh), but I made no promise. I had to cut this chapter in half when I was halfway done (I was already at 7k, can you imagine? This chapter could have had been as long as my list of embarrassing moments.), so I do have a lot of things already prepared for the next chapter.
With all my love!
(30/01/2020)