Whoo, back again! Higurashi Month 2019, because it has become one of my lowkey life goals to keep perpetuating this until it becomes a proper tradition for all three-and-a-half people in this graveyard of a fandom. And then keep doing it anyways, because tradition. If you wish to check out the prompt list, its on my tumblr page under the same username.
June 9th, 2019
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, smug and leery,
Over many a wicked and sneaky plan of trapping floors—
While I cackled, thus distracted, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my window clear.
"'Tis some cicada," I muttered, "tapping at my window clear—
Only this and nothing drear."
Ah, distinctly I recall it was in the midsummer's hall;
And each separate firefly's ball wrought its ghost upon the mochi.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my plots surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Satoshi—
For the brave and feckless brothers whom the angels name Satoshi—
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of our purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"'Tis some cicada entreating entrance at my window clear—
Or an errant bird entreating entrance at my window clear;—
This it is and not to fear."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Listen," said I, "you animal, there is nothing for you here;
But two young girls napping, and so cease your annoying rapping,
For my plans distract at your constant tapping, tapping at my window clear,
So shoo and you bug or bird you"—here I parted the rustling curtain;—
Darkness there, all uncertain.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Satoshi?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Satoshi!"—
Merely this and nothing answered me.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is someone in the kitchen cabinets;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
'Tis a mouse and nothing more!"
Over there I stalked my self, and, on top of the old yellowed shelf,
There was sat a stately goddess of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made she; not a minute stopped or stayed she;
But, with mien of guilty young lady, perched above the cabinet door—
Perched nearby the cookie jar just above the cabinet door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this strange picture piquing my small fancy into shrieking,
By the guiltily-caught decorum of the countenance she wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure a craven,
Sneaky coward and old shrine maiden thieving from the cookie store—
Trying in the dead of night to steal the cookies that your cousin bore!"
Quoth the Furude "Hauhauhau."
Much I marveled this brazen theft to happen so very plainly,
Though her answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing girl above their cabinet door—
Bird or beast upon the scarred counter above their cabinet door,
With such an excuse as "Hauhauhau."
But the maiden, sitting lonely on the off-white counter, spoke only
That one sound, as if her soul in that sound she did outpour.
Nothing farther then she uttered—not a finger then she fluttered—
Till I scarcely more than muttered "Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow she will leave me, as Satoshi has flown before."
Then Hanyuu said "Nevermore."
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what she utters is a distraction from the cookie store
Caught in the unhappy act of thieving from Rika in the night
For she explicitly forbade eating those cookies for fear of her blight—
Till the dirges of our Hope have been put all to flight
So I ignore your—'nevermore'."
But the maiden still trying to beguile me into smiling,
Despite the velvet cushion I flung upon her form, and counter and door;
Then, upon the linoleum sinking, I betook myself to linking
Plot unto plot, thinking what this ominous girl of yore—
What this old, ungainly, trembling, fretful, and ominous girl of yore
Meant in crying "Nevermore."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the girl whose timid eyes now pleaded into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my form at ease reclining
On the linoleum kitchen lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose linoleum kitchen lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
He shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from Rika's stinky old censer
Kept by her in the Furude shrine forbidden to all, but especially to me
"Hanyuu," I cried, "Oyashiro-sama hath lent thee—for that message he hath sent thee
Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Satoshi;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Satoshi!"
Quoth the Furude "Hauhauhau."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!—prophet still, if girl or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here indoors,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, tell me now—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, tell me now!"
Quoth the Furude "Hauhauhau."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!—prophet still, if girl or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that god we both adore—
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant joy,
It shall clasp a sainted boy whom the angels name Satoshi—
Clasp a shy and feckless brother whom the angels name Satoshi."
Quoth the Furude "Hauhauhau."
"A real sentence you must be starting, you moe freak!" I shrieked, upstarting—
"Get thee back into thy futon and take they hand out the cookie store!
Leave no stupid noise as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the counter above the door!
Take thy sting from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Furude "Hauhauhau."
And Hanyuu, slightly weeping, still is sleeping, still is sleeping
Under the fluffy covers of her futon just inside our chamber door;
While my eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er me streaming throws my shadow on the floor;
And my soul goes in that shadow that lies floating on the floor
By my greatest creation—the trap door!
AN: Rewriting Poe's The Raven is surprisingly hard, if you want it to still rhyme.
11.04 AM, USA Central Time