Here chapter 3
Enjoy tehe ~~
[Arc 1: Curses ]
Chapter 3
Devotion
HER WORDS REVERBERATED BETWEEN THEM in a way that Mariya could only describe as the calm before the storm.
Say that again.
Mariya felt her heart pounding so fiercely, she thought it might burst from her chest. A wave of heat swept through her entire body, from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair. She didn't need a mirror to know she was as red as a lobster.
The man appeared utterly disinterested in the conversation. He simply moved forward, nearly vanishing into the crowd, swallowed by it.
Not even acknowledging her.
"Wait!"
Mariya's blood ran cold. Her body acted on its own, as foolish as it seemed. She spun on her heels and dashed forward, reaching out her arm. Her fingers closed around his yukata—or so she thought —
A gigantic hand, resembling a bear's paw, clamped around her delicate wrist and squeezed .
Mariya let out a gasp of surprise, her heart nearly leaping from her chest. His grip on her wrist was vice-like. She hissed through her teeth, grimacing, as if he might tear her arm off and she almost choked. Pain shot up her arm, reminiscent of carpal tunnel syndrome.
Her eyes widened further as he brought his face closer to hers. His expression was neutral, yet thunderous, chiseled in stone. His eyes were terrifyingly empty, chilling her soul.
At that moment, Mariya knew, deep down, that this man could kill her effortlessly.
Without remorse.
The man smiled—a smile so hollow that she wanted to bury herself in a hole just to avoid seeing it ever again.
"I hate," he began, his voice icy and sending shivers down Mariya's spine. His breath carried a hint of mint, as if he had just indulged in a candy, the combined effect of which, along with his chilling gaze, left her in a frozen state, almost bringing up tears to her eyes. "being touched. I kept quiet the first time because you didn't do it on purpose. But don't get it twisted, sweetheart. Don't get too comfortable. Stay in your place. Understood?"
Mariya could only stare at him, wide eyed. Something crept up on her spine, on her skin, making her shiver.
Fear.
Terror seized her. Cold sweat trickled down her back, her breaths grew shallow and rapid, her heart raced. Her throat constricted in an almost desperate manner. Next, her tongue felt heavy, and in his cold, vacant, murderous eyes, the green of them becoming snake-like, she only saw her impending doom—
Keep your head held high.
It was a voice echoing from deep within her, a kind of inner warning. A buzzing sensation swelled within her, nearly causing her entire being to vibrate.
And…
Her eyes flashed.
Keep your head held high! she commanded herself once more, firmly, with increased clarity and awareness, willing her body to still its trembling. She let out a shaky breath, the onset of nausea likely giving her complexion a greenish tint.
Mariya slowly lifted her chin, her features settling into an expression of unwavering pride. She had to maintain her composure. Even though every fiber of her being yearned to distance herself from him and release her frustrations, her fear through tears.
Never.
If I die here, I'll die with my head held high, at least.
This thought emerged from a primal place deep within her, a part she didn't recognize, one that stirred her blood to flow faster, warmer, colder.
Her throat constricted like an iron vice, words stuck in her mouth. She could only stare at him, projecting the utmost pride and calmness. The pain in her wrist throbbed violently, tempting her to grimace, to groan. Her tongue ached from biting down to stifle any pained sounds, the metallic taste of blood seeping across her taste buds like a bittersweet whisper.
Mariya felt as though her body might fracture under the pressure she exerted to remain still, composed. She sensed herself standing in the midst of a storm, not as a rock or an unyielding wall, but as a reed bending, yet unbroken, resiliently snapping back into shape with as much force as was exerted upon it in an attempt to crush it.
Her jaw clenched, weighed down.
As her breath mingled with that of the criminal threatening her, both hot, one quickening, the other of an imperturbable pace, her mouth parted. She tried to talk, but failed miserably.
The sounds around them dissolved into an indistinct buzz, the vibrant hues of the temple surroundings fading to a muted blurr, and all Mariya could focus on was the piercing, predatory glint in his eyes. He blinked slowly, the vivid green of his eyes vanishing and reappearing like a menacing beacon, and she gritted her teeth painfully, feeling the intense pressure of his presence pressing against her very bones .
With each inhalation, she felt the searing heat of his body, the formidable strength of his mind pinning her in place like an immovable force. Her stomach tightened into knots, and she pushed her shoulders back in an effort to exert an unyielding will that would not bow to the uncompromising nature of this man. Mariya stood tall, her jaw set in a stubborn way, a testament to her refusal to be trampled.
Though words remained tangled on her tongue, unable to break free, she fought to maintain her composure, not yielding an inch. She confronted him with a dignified, icy silence, her eyes locked onto his with unwavering determination and pride. And she was, oh, so prideful.
Trying to.
That was the only thing she could do right now.
Fake it until you make it.
His hand around her wrist was a constant reminder that she wasn't dreaming, grounding her in a reality that eluded her. Each breath against her face seared her like a brand, keeping the terror rumbling deep in her mind at bay, while she carefully crafted an imperturbable facade, opposing the thunderous calm of the man who hadn't moved since he had seized her arm with his iron grip.
The corner of his lips lifted slightly, not quite a smile, more a smirk. She could barely see it, noticing only because she was wholly focused on him.
He asked, in a low tone, his voice a rumble, "Where's all this pride come from, precious?"
It sparked her anger, and her tongue suddenly felt less heavy as she squinted at him, before saying, in no uncertain terms, glad her voice didn't shake, her chin up. "From my Homo sapiens heritage. Why, do you lack some?"
To her surprise, he barked a laugh, throwing back his head. It was dry, but amused, vibrating through the air like the strike of a sword. She could see the tendons on his neck, his muscles moving beneath his massive shoulders.
And just as quickly he stopped laughing and released her arm, his silence a sudden heavy weight before walking off.
Just like that.
Her chance to speak further was snatched away, as she didn't get the opportunity to give him a piece of her mind . She didn't even have the time to blink.
She could only feel the throbbing pain of her wrist, her shock.
What she said. What he said.
As she gradually emerged from her trance, she became aware of her surroundings. People glanced at her sideways, and Mariya felt her face flush with embarrassment. She attempted to act as though nothing had happened.
That's when she realized the hollows were backing away from him, their fear evident, reflecting her own growing sense of dread.
Mariya quickly located her grandparents, and judging by their concerned looks, she must have appeared quite distressed.
No kidding! She had to lean against a solid wall this time to steady herself after that disastrous encounter.
My God, did that really happen?
"Are you alright?" her grandmother asked, appearing unsure. Her dark brown eyes were glistening with worry.
Summoning her inner strength, though with some effort, she managed to force a fake smile onto her face. "Yes, I'm fine! It's just really crowded, caught me off guard."
Professional liar was next on her list of talent, after seasoned actress.
"Mariya?"
A bitter taste lingered in Mariya's mouth. She didn't even hear her grandmother.
The more she dwelled on the encounter, the more a mix of anger and shame churned in her stomach. Shame for not being able to truly speak her mind to him before he vanished. At least she didn't break down into angry tears, which could sometimes happen to her. At least she managed to throw something at him. But it wasn't enough. He called her a monkey!
He hadn't even given her a choice! A shiver ran through Mariya as she rubbed her wrist, the memory of his empty eyes haunting her—she had never seen a gaze like that before. She gently tugged her sleeve down over her wrist, already certain a bruise would form. He hadn't held back his strength. Or perhaps he had; she was convinced he could have easily broken her arm.
A surge of anger shot up her spine, and she clenched her teeth, fighting back the frustration boiling within her.
In that exact moment, Mariya vowed this wasn't over.
If she crossed paths with him again today, she wouldn't miss the chance to set things straight and even the score. And he wouldn't laugh!
It had become deeply personal. The more she dwelled on it, the more she wanted to confront him physically. Shivers ran across her skin, goosebumps rising. Her stomach tightened, her fists clenched, and Mariya felt on the verge of exploding.
Something rippled across her skin, but she dismissed it as a wave of irritation.
The hollow on her grandmother's head, however, noticed. It froze, staring at her without blinking.
Mariya had closed her eyes for a few seconds, missing its stare, her teeth nearly grinding in frustration.
When she opened her eyes, it wasn't looking at her anymore.
Mariya buried her feelings deep inside, determined to focus on her mission for the day: enjoying her time with her grandparents and finding a way to help her grandmother.
But she swore to herself, swore with all her might, all her soul, that he wouldn't get away so easily. Especially since he even terrified the hollows.
He terrified the hollows….
Mariya stopped in her tracks, abruptly, widening her eyes.
He terrified the hollows!
Her gaze immediately shifted to the monster on her grandmother. If he frightened them... maybe?
Mariya gently clenched her fists, her nails digging into the flesh of her palms. In truth, she wasn't sure if it was good news or bad news. A man who could achieve the almost supernatural feat of scaring those hellish creatures didn't bode well, to say the least.
"Mariya?" her grandmother called out, again.
Lifting her head, Mariya forced a smile onto her lips. "I spotted a skewer stand," she quickly said, gently wrapping her arm around her grandmother's and leading her grandparents towards the stand.
After a bit more walking, which allowed Mariya to gradually calm her racing heart, they arrived at the imposing gates of Toji Temple. Specifically, they reached the Nandaimon , the Great South Gate. This magnificent structure, built of massive wood, stood majestically at the southern entrance of the sanctuary, resembling an ancient sentinel.
"It's an iconic structure often associated with Buddhist temples," her grandfather explained softly.
"Really?"
"Yes. You can find a similar gate at Todai-ji Temple in Nara."
"Oh yes, I know that temple! That's where the Daibatsu is." A colossal bronze statue of Buddha, also known as the Great Buddha. Mariya had always wanted to see it. "Maybe we could go see it...?"
Her grandmother smiled gently at her. "Of course, Mariya-chan."
Mariya beamed at her and gently squeezed her shoulder. The displays of affection she showed her grandparents in public didn't seem to bother them. Mariya knew such behavior wasn't common in Japan. She was glad it didn't trouble them; they had already discussed it. She would have stopped if they found it too culturally inappropriate.
"The pagoda is magnificent!" Mariya exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.
"Do you know how many meters tall it is?" her grandfather asked. Mariya gently let go of her grandmother's arm and stepped back a few paces to better admire the tall tower, rising like a lighthouse. Before them, the grand wooden pagoda stood proudly, its five slender stories reaching towards the sky. Each level of the pagoda was characterized by clean lines and traditional patterns.
Mariya cupped her hand above her forehead, biting her lower lip. She placed her hand on her chin in a Sherlock Holmes pose, pretending to rub it.
"Hmm, 40 meters?" she guessed in a deep voice. She heard her grandmother laugh.
"Close," her grandfather declared, deciding to play along, looking slightly amused. Mariya glanced at him from the corner of her eye, and her huge bright smile gently dimpled her cheeks. She almost forgot about her unfortunate encounter from earlier.
"45 meters?"
"Almost."
"50…?"
He smiled. "Close, but not quite."
"I give up!" she declared dramatically, linking her arm through her grandfather's this time.
"55 meters."
Mariya's eyes widened softly. Yes, now that he mentioned it... oh wow .
Through the wide southern entrance, she could make out a sort of pavilion. She squinted to see it more clearly. Even from there, she could appreciate the temple's beauty.
"What is that?" she asked her grandparents curiously, gently rubbing her sore wrist.
"That's the Kondo Hall. It's the main hall," her grandfather replied. As they entered through the gate and stepped onto a vast esplanade, the complex unfolded before her – it took her breath away.
The grounds were magnificent, shrubbery and delicate construction as far as the eye can see. The Kondo Hall came into much clearer view, standing at the end of the promenade.
"It was destroyed in an incident and rebuilt in the 17th century," her grandfather continued.
"Oh. Thankfully," Mariya murmured in the same tone. "That would have been a tragedy."
Truly.
The roof, with its two tiers covered in ceramic tiles, was supported by sturdy wooden pillars that imparted both strength and elegance to the structure. The robust pillars, weathered by time, proudly upheld the edifice, silent witnesses to centuries of prayer and meditation—mirroring the entire complex's history.
As they drew closer, Mariya could discern the delicate ornaments finely carved into the wood.
"This is the most intricate structure in Toji Temple. It combines the Japanese irimoya roof style with the Indian tenjiku style in one building."
"It's truly beautiful." Her voice was a whisper, reflecting deep respect and reverence.
They passed the small metal barriers, entering the hall's perimeter.
"Come, Mariya-chan, let's do the ablutions first," her grandmother hushed with a smile.
Oh? Mariya thought. This, she knew. She had seen her uncle perform them before each prayer. The teenage girl followed her grandparents to the chozuya. Her grandmother took the red wooden ladle, scooping up water and pouring it first over her left hand, then her right. She scooped more water and let it flow into her cupped left hand, bringing it to her lips to rinse her mouth gently before discreetly spitting the water onto the ground.
Finally, she tilted the ladle, letting the remaining water flow out before handing it to Mariya, indicating she should try it herself. It was almost the same as the ablutions she knew, except her grandmother didn't wash her feet, arms, hair, nose, or ears.
Having observed the whole process, Mariya mimicked the same actions, hoping not to make any mistakes. When her grandmother smiled at her with pride, she knew she had done it correctly, reminding her of the times she performed ablutions with her uncle for fun.
Mariya handed the ladle to her grandfather, her smile growing brilliantly as he took his turn.
When they entered the Kondo Hall, the first thing that caught Mariya's attention was the statue at the center. It stood over two meters tall and seemed to be made of gold. Mariya recognized it; her father had mentioned it to her once. She remembered seeing pictures of it but had completely forgotten that it was housed in the Kondo Hall.
The statue was Yakushi-nyorai, also known as the Buddha of Healing or the Healing Buddha. In his left hand, he held a jar of medicine, while his right hand made a gesture of blessing or comfort. Beside him stood the Bodhisattvas Nikko and Gakko.
Bodhisattva Nikko, representing the sunlight, was positioned to the right of Yakushi-nyorai. He brought warmth, life, and energy, associated with prosperity and the dispelling of darkness and ignorance. The statue depicted him as a graceful and radiant figure.
Bodhisattva Gakko, representing the moonlight, was carefully placed to the left of Yakushi-nyorai. His role was to bring calm, serenity, and comfort, symbolizing the tranquility of the night and the purification of the spirit. His representation was equally graceful but imbued with the soothing softness of the moon.
Together, Bodhisattvas Nikko and Gakko embodied the balance of sunlight and moonlight, as well as the duality of day and night. Their harmony was essential for healing and spiritual enlightenment.
In essence, this divine triad represented complete protection and blessing. Mariya gazed at the statues with wide-eyed admiration, deeply impressed. The photos she had seen did them no justice—it was clear!
She felt small before the solemn atmosphere they commanded—a serene strength. Then, she noticed... one, two, three... seven small Buddhas, and she counted again... twelve other statues just below Yakushi-nyorai. Mariya didn't recognize them.
Some visitors were bowing before the statues in a gesture of respect, while others seemed to be praying. An elderly woman had brought offerings of incense and flowers. Her grandmother did the same before closing her eyes to pray. Her grandfather also paid his respects. Mariya remained silent, respectfully observing the statues and contemplating their significance.
Healing.
Perhaps it could help her grandmother?
Mariya lowered her chin, her eyes fixed on the ground as she took a deep breath before closing her eyes, engaging in a discreet breathing exercise.
Please, let someone protect my grandmother from this thing. She repeated to herself over and over. If there is a powerful entity or a healing spirit here, let it remove the thing on my grandmother's head. Amen.
When she opened her eyes, the monstrosity on her grandmother's head was still there. So, she was back to square one: finding a monk.
Despite this, Mariya was deeply impressed by the temple. She had never been inside one before. She had visited churches and mosques, especially in her mother's homeland. She often explored churches with her best friend, Adelie, who loved visiting them.
In Paris, her favorite church was the Catholic Church of Holy Spirit in the 12th arrondissement, near the metro on line 8. The immense edifice seemed to pierce the sky and had always impressed her. She admired its neo-Byzantine architecture and the tranquility that radiated from this architectural beauty.
The church had two entry points. Her favorite was the one with ascending steps leading to immense doors. Inside, the prayer hall seemed to stretch for miles, an illusion gracefully and powerfully maintained by the majestic dome overhead.
In respectful silence, Mariya would wait, her eyes absorbing the splendor of the place, while Adelie whispered a quick prayer. Although born into the Catholic faith and baptized, Adelie wasn't as devout a practitioner as her grandmother on her father's side, a loving but strict Irish Catholic. Nevertheless, Adelie enjoyed attending mass on Sundays occasionally. She didn't observe Lent regularly but had done it once.
That time, Mariya had joined her in solidarity. The experience brought the two girls closer. The following year, Adelie observed Ramadan with Mariya, who had taken it up in memory of her uncle, who used to break his fast specifically with her when she was only eight and had already eaten all day long. These memories warmed her heart. Her mother, who had fasted during Ramadan for years out of habit, guided them. Mariya's father, though not adhering to any particular religion, had always fasted with them, demonstrating his respect for his wife's beliefs and traditions.
Mariya had thus grown up with a kind of religious freedom, picking and choosing what resonated most with her, though she felt closest to her uncle's faith, at least culturally. While she loved visiting various places of worship, it wasn't the religious aspect that drew her, but rather the atmosphere, the architecture. She found a certain peace in their quiet corners and the whispered echoes of prayer. A place of peace where she can meditate. Think.
This visit was no exception. Mariya understood devotion. Every person in the world was devoted to something, to someone, and often to both.
When she spent time with her uncle, she remembered asking him countless questions about his practice, his ideas, and his way of seeing things.
She realized that devotion was not limited to religious rituals or spiritual practices. It permeated all aspects of human activity, from art and science to personal relationships and societal commitments.
Adelie loved to draw. Each of her paintings was breathtaking, and although her best friend liked to tell her she wasn't that good (even though Mariya couldn't even draw a flowerpot ), Mariya could see how much heart she put into it, in each of her brushstrokes that drew details that gave her canvas that deep, intricate quality, in the concentration she displayed.
Devotion was a thread woven through the tapestry of human experience, influencing choices, shaping destinies and defining legacies.
In a way, at least.
Then, she thought, is this man devoted to something?
She suddenly felt apprehensive.
Mariya left the hall calmly and respectfully, biting her lower lip. She felt someone squeeze her shoulder, and had to force herself not to flinch, for her mind had unfortunately returned to the man who had threatened her earlier.
"Are you alright?" her grandfather asked. Mariya gave him a slightly trembling smile, her heart racing, and swallowed her anxiety.
"Yes, I'm just impressed by what I saw. What are the seven little Buddhas?" she asked, changing the subject.
Her grandfather didn't seem to notice her emotional state, or at least he made no comment. His eyes were as steadfast as mountains, revealing nothing.
"They symbolize the different forms of Yakushi Nyorai and appear to people to save them from suffering." He paused, and inquired. "You know of him?"
She smiled. "Yes."
He nodded.
"Then there are the 12 Heavenly Generals, who are placed below Yakushi Nyorai's seat and are the protectors of the Buddha. They symbolize the twelve hours of day and night, the twelve months of the year, and the twelve directions of the Chinese zodiac."
Mariya glanced towards the entrance. Her grandmother was still praying, the hollow still very much present.
Her gaze lingered on the Buddhas. Can't anyone help me? Maybe what I'm asking for will take a while... Maybe I'm not being realistic. I wish it could just disappear in a puff of smoke. That damn thing….but maybe it doesn't work like that. After all, patience is a virtue.
Then, she thought, Do I have the time to be patient?
She didn't know.
She didn't have enough information about these creatures to really be able to help. She was groping in the dark, and she couldn't talk to anyone about it.
Holy water doesn't work, salt doesn't work. Religious chants don't work either. The temple doesn't work.
Her thoughts swirled and crashed into each other in a whirlpool of fear.
She was scared for her grandmother. And if the monk couldn't help? Then she would find an imam; she was more familiar with mosques, if not, a priest.
She would do anything .
"Mariya?"
Mariya tore her gaze from her grandmother and focused on her grandfather. "Do you think I'll ever be as devoted as Grandma?"
"Of course. You can be and do whatever you put your mind on." He said, observing her quietly. "Are you interested in Buddhism?"
Mariya leaned gently against him, seeking physical support to soothe her emotions.
"I enjoy learning about it," she said thoughtfully. "But I'm not interested in adhering to the religion."
He hummed softly.
Maybe that was what she was missing: devotion. Not in a religious sense.
Maybe she needed to be more proactive.
Perhaps she was just letting fear paralyze her.
She should have tried to search about those things more deeply. She shouldn't have stayed in her room the first time.
She should have faced it head-on.
Does devotion mean being fearless?
At that moment, her grandmother emerged from the Kondo Hall. Sunlight gently illuminated her face as Mariya's gaze shifted to the Yakushi-Nyorai statue visible from where she stood. Her grandmother stood perfectly framed between her and the Buddha, amidst the shimmering presence of the statue and the other seven Buddhas and their generals.
Devotion . The word echoed in Mariya's mind, swirling and repeating louder and louder, as her eyes didn't leave the Buddhas.
Devotion. Devotion. Devotion.
A sudden headache pierced her skull like a lightning bolt, and Mariya pressed her hand to her forehead, grimacing as white spots danced before her eyes with violence.
"Mariya-chan?"
Her grandmother's worried voice cut through the fog of pain enveloping her mind.
Mariya almost jolted, her breath coming short. She blinked, her hand still on her forehead. She felt a hand rubbing her back and heard the concerned questions again, delivered in a tone full of worry.
What was that?! Bile burned her throat fiercely. Summoning a will of iron, Mariya straightened her posture and managed a strained smile, hoping it didn't come across as a grimace. She still saw silver spots floating in the air, the sun beating down relentlessly, and when her eyes turned to Yakushi-Nyorai, the nausea intensified.
Then, as suddenly as it had come, it vanished . The surroundings dimmed, the intensity lessened. The silver spots no longer floated before her eyes.
"Mariya-chan?" her grandmother called again.
Mariya's smile, still in place, froze a bit more before she forced herself to relax. She gently rubbed her temples.
"Sorry, I think the sun dazzled me," she said, trying to reassure her grandparents.
"I forgot you don't handle the sun well," her grandmother sighed softly, and Mariya remembered the lie she had told them the first time she had seen a hollow.
Mariya glanced at the monster haunting her grandmother… which was now staring at her.
Its eyes were wide open, black as an abyss of malevolence.
Fixed on her.
The warmth of the sun disappeared. She felt suddenly cold, as if caught in a blizzard. Her bones chilled, and she found herself staring back, trapped in a silent stillness, her throat parched.
Why was it looking at her like that?
Her grandmother tilted her head to the side, a worried crease forming between her brows, and touched Mariya's cheek gently. "Do you want to go home?" She cast a concerned glance at her grandfather, whose lips were slightly pinched.
"Do you need to see the doctor?" he finally asked.
And there it was, she found herself worrying her grandparents. Mariya suddenly felt weary of it all. Yet, she had to press on and gather herself; there was no other option.
So, she smiled again and shook her head. "It's just that Grandma seems even more radiant after her prayer!" she said, carefully avoiding looking at the hollow that had suddenly lost interest in her. Thank God. "I was just thinking how her complexion looks even better—maybe it's the outing?"
What a liar.
But Mariya, in a corner of her agitated mind, was beginning to understand unconsciously that she would now need to lie to survive.
Even if she couldn't quite verbalize this feeling.
Not yet, anyway.
And that was when Mariya resolved to track down the man again if consulting a monk about her issue proved insufficient.
He might still be around. She wasn't sure if he was the type to visit a temple, but looks might be deceiving.
She had decided to speak her mind to him, but perhaps she should set that aside for now. Her grandmother was more important. So far, he appeared to have the only effective solution.
Instead, she was going to ask him exactly how he managed to scare them.
Perhaps that was the type of devotion she needed to adopt—not the fearless kind, because as much as fear paralyzed us, it also compelled us to act.
It was the altruistic kind of devotion she sought.
If it existed.
She would bring it into existence.
If it made sense.
She would give it meaning.
Notes:
*All information about the temple and what it contains was found on the internet, including chozuya, which are purification methods to go through when going to pray in a temple. I apologize if I've made any mistakes. Please let me know and I'll correct them immediately! :)
And that's the end of chapter 3!
Well, I admit it's not my favorite chapter - I've really rewritten it several times - but this is the version that suits me best xD maybe I'll go back and edit a few sentences here and there, but I don't know yet.
Does the length of the chapters suit you, or do you prefer them shorter, longer? :)
What did you think of the scene with Toji? And Mariya's tumultuous thoughts? What would you have done in her place? (yes, I'm pestering you with questions oopsie ;P)
Let me know ~~~