Life was plain. It crept along, day by day, with those who experienced it giving no thought to its passing, only moving from one moment to the next. Such was the way of attaining true happiness, Byakuren Hijiri felt. Life was not cherished, but merely lived.

Myouren, her beloved brother, had fallen ill, and she had spent the last few days caring for him, as any loving sister would, her knowledge of medicines proving useful in alleviating much of his pains. She entered his place of rest, some simple soup and a herbal remedy upon her tray. He smiled at her, as he always did, putting on a show of strength so that she wouldn't worry about him. Things were different, now, and it made her uncomfortable, she thought, as she set the tray on his lap.

"Myouren? How are you doing?" She pushed her thoughts to one side.

"I'm feeling a little better than yesterday. Perhaps I'll be ready to return to the temple soon." He was old now, Byakuren realised, the hair long since fallen from his head, the wrinkles lining his warm face growing deeper with every squint, every smile. Perhaps she was, too, her hair greyed and thin, the young ones seeming much taller than they used to.

"That's good news. They're all waiting for your return. I don't know how the villagers will get by without you."

Her brother forced out a chuckle. "We've taught them well. They'll be able to take care of themselves."

There was a lull in the conversation. Byakuren gestured towards the food she had prepared. "You should eat up."

Byakuren jumped as Myouren slipped, falling onto his side with a grunt. Putting down today's tray, she helped him sit up.

"The young man from the village came by," Byakuren informed him.

"Oh? How are things going?"

"He's taken quite well to running things, as you said."

"Goodness. It seems like only yesterday that he was just a boy, looking to make a name for himself. Do you remember how he used to help us around the temple?"

Byakuren nodded. "Yes, I do. We used to play, too. He was like a son to us."

"He always said he'd be running the place someday." Myouren's chuckle turned into a few coughs. "I'm glad to hear it."

Byakuren couldn't meet his gaze. She couldn't run anymore, not without risking falling over and breaking her legs. Still, the acolytes had been good to her, doing as she instructed them and keeping the temple tidy. They looked at her with worried eyes, but she made sure to show that she was staying strong. Emptiness was the way to keep herself going.

Days turned into weeks. Myouren liked to watch the sun rise each morning, as though counting the days while they passed. It was warm, like his hand upon hers, each experience a transient one.

Myouren would talk to her, as though she were the one that was sick, giving her advice and putting her mind at ease. Her eyes grew heavier with each passing day.

They gathered in his room, the acolytes, the villagers, even some local lords, each leaving gifts, from scented flowers that breathed life into the room, to kind words that would rekindle the smile on Myouren's heart.

Byakuren watched, distantly. The young were so full of life, and Myouren had touched each of their lives. Some of the acolytes had begun to set off, to deal with youkai in farther towns. They said tearful goodbyes, each of which Myouren accepted tenderly.

"You see, sister?" he said to her one night. "The world will go on without me. I believe in these people to do the right things, and we have guided them well."

Byakuren held his hand too tightly. "But there is so much more good in the world! So much more that you can guide them to!"

"I have no regrets," Myouren replied with finality. "Sister, we have always been but small drops in the stream of time. Perhaps I have helped crack rocks, but it is still my fate to be washed away before I see the end. I believe this world and its people will carry on. There will be better people than I, someday, at least I hope so."

An icy grip seized Byakuren's heart. She felt her breathing hasten, her eyes widening as she looked at her brother in horror. She stood up, leaving before she humiliated herself. At the very least, she managed to sleep that night despite the chill that clawed at her soul after meditating, cleansing the dread from her mind.

The sun rose and fell as months went by. She could do nothing to stop the passage of time, and she became resigned to her brother's fate. She resolved to make the most of their time together, reminiscing about old stories, of youkai they had vanquished, of villagers they had advised, of acolytes they had trained, and of their own, simple lives.

Byakuren didn't think about the next day, only living in the moment, keeping her mind free of thoughts of the future. Myouren was here, now, and that was all that mattered.

She entered the room, breakfast in hand. It was as though Myouren was watching the sunrise-

Blood covered her fingertips. The claws gripped upon her heart no matter how hard she tried to prise them off her, scratches scoring her flesh. It gripped her mind, the agony causing her to search for any way to make it stop, her head throbbing, her body seizing up. Laughter echoed in her small room, a cruel cackle that mocked all efforts she had made throughout her pointless little life. And it was! What was the point if she was just going to die? Why had she had to suffer so much? She searched frantically for anything, finding the medicine that would put her to sleep, the taste of her own blood on her fingers as her trembling hands fumbled with the packet-

Byakuren awoke that night. She was a mess. She didn't think, at first, merely putting one foot in front of the other, taking one step at a time. Then, she saw it, like a gift from the gods, her answer, a small, unassuming scroll that was displayed upon her wall. She was no stranger to dealing with youkai, and if there was one thing she had learned, it was that all stories had a basis in reality.

The elixir of immortality. It was so obvious, now that she thought about it, and magic was the path to obtaining it. Her brother had been so resigned to his fate that he had never even considered that it could be fought. But she hadn't much time. She was old; she now knew that better than anyone, and she would have to work hard. For the first time in years, she felt something, deep within her. The spark of hope.

With renewed purpose, Byakuren Hijiri began to learn the ways of magic.

Author's Notes

Reuploaded due to something going wrong with the first version. Hopefully, nothing goes wrong here; a big thanks to the reviewers who pointed it out. Anyway, Byakuren's always been my favourite Touhou character, so I wanted to do my interpretation of her story.