and here is chapter 4 ehe
I was way too excited not to post it soon!
the next chapter will take a bit longer though xD
Enjoy~
[Arc 1: Curses]
Chapter 4
Donkey
AS THEY PASSED THE KONDO HALL ON THEIR LEFT, another structure loomed ahead: the Kodo Hall, Mariya soon learned. Monks had traditionally gathered there for study and meditation.
The twenty-one statues inside didn't captivate her like those in the Kondo Hall had. Instead, a wave of nausea washed over her as she laid eyes on them, vividly recalling the almost surreal experience moments earlier when she gazed at Yakushi-Nyorai and the other Buddhas bathed in sunlight.
Bile threatened to rise in her throat as she exited the hall. Yet, despite this visceral reaction, she couldn't deny the hall's magnificence. The arrangement of the Buddhas resembled a mandala central to Shingon Buddhism, as her grandfather had explained.
Her attention, however, was stole a glance at her grandparents, trying not to alarm them, though it was a challenge. It felt like she had just made a life-altering decision! She didn't know how to handle the possibility of encountering that man again. What should she do? How should she approach him? His words continued to echo in her mind—the insults, the threats. It was incredibly hard not to seek revenge, difficult to imagine the next time she would inevitably cross paths with him—because she would find a way. She would need to control herself and suppress her wounded pride to achieve her goals.
Could she really do that despite her earlier declarations?
Mariya could hear her grandfather's voice, but it gradually faded into the background. She wasn't fully listening, and deep down, a pang of shame hit her for tuning him out. Her stomach twisted with guilt—this wasn't like her at all. Yet, she couldn't help it. She just...she just had a lot on her mind.
She subtly shook her head, her light amber eyes returning to her grandparents. They walked slowly ahead of her, engrossed in their own conversation, likely unaware of the storm brewing in their granddaughter's mind. She watched them, wondering how they would react if they knew what troubled her so deeply. How would they respond if they knew what she saw every day? How would they feel if they knew that her grandmother had one of those creatures on her head and that Mariya had literally no idea how to help her get rid of it? That she had, more or less, decided to seek help from a man who looked like an escaped convict as a last restort? A man who had insulted her and almost twisted her arm?
Her grandfather walked beside her grandmother, always in that subtly protective manner. But he would glance back at Mariya from time to time, making sure she was still following them.
Mariya met his brown eyes—steady and calm—and she thought again:
How would they react if they saw what I saw?
"Let's go buy our tickets now to visit the rest of the complex," her grandfather said, still not taking his eyes off her. Mariya stepped forward to walk beside him, nodding, trying to concentrate.
When she saw the way he was looking at her, she felt a silent call-out and flushed.
She smiled awkwardly. Oops.
He didn't comment. Oops x2.
Act normal! You look completely stupid, girl!
They then headed to the reception desk that allowed entry into the sacred, paid area and bought their tickets.
Much of the buildings remained free to access, notably the former residence called Miedo, of Kukai, the monk who had built the temple. It was also the site of the Kobo-ichi flea market — Mariya really wanted to go there next time. Maybe this time she wouldn't be as preoccupied as she was now.
Despite her self-imposed missions and her mind racing, she tried to enjoy her visit, at least to not look like a dumbass with the attention span of a goldfish.
Yet, she quickly found herself losing interest in the beauty of the temple, not being able to enjoy the visit, and for good reasons. The intricate details of the temple complex faded into the background as her internal struggle took center stage.
She occasionally had trouble keeping pace with the walk and would sometimes spend long moments gazing off into the distance. She pretended it was because she was admiring the scenery, but that wasn't the case at all.
Instead, her eyes swept over the surroundings with an almost desperate intensity. Despite the storm inside her, her gaze remained focused. The intricate details of the temple blurred, overshadowed by the urgency of her mission.
(Yeah, her mission. It was almost ridiculous.)
She was looking for a monk. Plan A.
She was looking for the man. Plan B.
She was scanning the surroundings with sharp eyes, her body taut.
She felt like she was seeing that man everywhere. That he would appear and would terrorize her like the boogeyman he seemed to be.
Her observations also showed her that the temple had few hollows in the surroundings, which gave her hope that she could help her grandmother here. There was a faint hope that she wouldn't have to track down that man.
May that monk appear soon. Amen.
As she felt her grandpa's eyes on her again, she realized how oddly she must be behaving for them. Mariya was no fool, she knew she must look like she was stressed out.
Gosh, I'm such a dumbass!
Subconsciously, she knew they mustn't start asking questions. Considering her grandmother's propensity for self-blame, she didn't want her to think she wasn't enjoying herself or was tired of them. Worse, that she wanted to leave Japan.
OK, Mariya. Pull yourself together and act like a normal person and not like some ninja on a mission!
Nibbling on her lower lip, Mariya tried to make conversation. Her throat was dry, and she struggled at first to talk.
"Uhm...when was the temple founded again?" Mariya finally managed to ask, clearing her throat.
Her grandfather glanced at her, his eyes unreadable. Ouch... "In 796." He replied.
That managed to surprise her, momentarily snapping her out of her chaotic thoughts. Mariya's eyes widened, the light amber of them almost taking on a yellow hue.
"796?! It must be as old as Kyoto!" She exclaimed, shock coloring her voice.
Her grandmother laughed softly at her outburst. "Mariya-chan, you're yelling."
Blushing, Mariya delicately slapped one dainty hand against her mouth, and looked around her like a deer caught in a headlight, hoping no one had witnessed that embarrassing moment.
Nope.
She softly sighed in relief, and looked sheepishly at her grandparents, removing her hand from her mouth. "I apologize."
Her grandfather's twitching lips gave him away. "Hmm, well yes, you're right. The temple was indeed built right after the city was established."
Well, she hadn't expected that!
Her grandfather then talked to her a bit about the architecture. After that, they didn't speak anymore, and Mariya's mind returned to her plan, the hollows, everything...
Unfortunately, the silences between them were now longer, and awkward.
Her grandparents weren't talkative people; it was usually Mariya who kept the conversation flowing all the time.
Her father used to call her a chatterbox after all. Still does.
However, with everything she was going through, she was as silent as a tomb, not as energetic as she usually could be and they noticed it.
Well, her grandfather certainly did. He was just not saying anything.
She suddenly realized that she couldn't pretend any longer, that she couldn't really keep up the act for much longer.
Mariya gently pursed her lips. She certainly had a lot to handle, but the foremost was the monster potentially threatening her grandmother. She can handle it, she told herself. She was going to do it! She took a deep breath to relax, her eyes alert, thoughtfully rubbing her wrist.
Mariya made sure her sleeve always covered her wrist, as a bruise was clearly forming, and she had no explanation to give her grandparents.
She would have to cover it up with foundation—which reminded her that she needed to buy more since she was almost out and— this was not the time to think about that! She figured her brain was trying to find a way to escape, given how on edge she was. Every shadow, every passerby put her on high alert.
She can do it.
Suddenly invigorated by her little self-motivating speech, Mariya turned to her grandparents, gently touching her grandmother's arm, whose hand was resting against her elbow. "I'm going to the restroom," she informed her grandparents. She had seen their location on a map displayed earlier, where they had bought their ticket. Her grandmother nodded gently. Mariya continued with a soft smile, "Don't wait for me to visit the rest. I'll join you as soon as I'm done."
Mariya turned and delved into the temple complex.
She needed to think.
Alone.
Mariya walked along the shrubbery, heading towards the restroom as planned. She intended to take a moment there to gather herself and decide her next steps.
Entering the empty restroom was a relief. She stood in front of the mirror and studied herself. She silently congratulated herself on applying makeup—concealing her dark circles with foundation, adding a touch of blush for color, and finishing with a bright red gloss to liven her face. Thank goodness for that! Mariya could see the strain in her eyes; she looked on the verge of vomiting or fainting, maybe both.
At least her makeup helped to hide all of it; she was sure that if she took it off, she'd scare herself.
She closed her eyes gently and took a deep breath.
She needed to muster up courage.
She would have preferred to splash cold water on her face, but she couldn't risk removing her makeup and looking like a clown on top of resembling Casper the Friendly Ghost. The hollow haunting her grandmother was already doing a good job of that.
If she was going to look like she had seen a ghost, she was determined to at least look presentable—non-negotiable.
Mariya rolled up her sleeve to inspect her wrist.
She gasped. Her hand slapped against her mouth.
Where the man had grabbed her, a huge bruised mark remained. His finger marks were clearly visible, and the bruise was already turning from blue to purple—almost violet, in fact.
Mariya stared in shock at her skin. She had expected this outcome, had glimpsed it before, but seeing the actual damage took her by surprise.
Deep down, she was sure he didn't even use all his strength.
Her stomach churned. how much stronger he truly is?
And I want to talk to a man who managed to mark my skin like this without even using all his strength? Just because I tried to grab his yukata? After he called me a monkey? He should at least expect to be punched after what he said!
She met her own eyes in the mirror once again, slightly widened and reflecting yellow under the shock.
Mariya... what do you want to do?
She pressed her hands against the sink's edge, her knuckles turning white with the pressure.
Was she genuinely prepared, in her conscience, to confront this man, despite her earlier resolutions?
Were those just empty words?
Was she truly grasping the potential consequences this could entail? For her grandmother? Could she honestly broach the subject of her family with him? How would she even approach him?
Mariya realized the absurdity of her earlier decision; she wasn't prepared for what might happen. Something faltered within her.
Then it roared.
Her hand instinctively pressed against her chest at this sensation. She furrowed her brow. Why did she feel... irritated? Irritated with herself.
Why was she agonizing over it so intensely? When he was actually her plan B?
The answer was instantaneous and simple.
Deep down, she knew a monk wouldn't be able to help her. It was a certainty. Yet, she stubbornly insisted on seeking one out. But what could she possibly say to him?
Her emotions and thoughts had been on a tumultuous journey since earlier. But—she had to give it a shot.
These creatures, she only encountered them in Japan. With Buddhism and Shintoism prevailing, it seemed logical that this kind of practice would be most effective in dealing with them, right?
She decided then and there that she needed to search the complex herself; she hadn't yet encountered a monk. It was time to seize opportunities. This passive attitude had led her nowhere.
Mariya closed her eyes and exited the restroom, taking a slow, steadying breath while scanning her surroundings.
Good.
Her decision was truly made this time.
Now alone, she had the freedom to explore and search for a monk. When she finds one, as she hoped, she will pretend to be lost and seize the opportunity to ask him specific questions. If it turns out he can help her by providing charms or performing a ritual, it will serve two purposes when she guides him to her grandparents. She could explain to her grandparents that she got lost in the complex and was assisted by a compassionate monk who offered to show her rituals or Buddhist charms because she seemed interested. Of course, her grandparents will accompany her, and will try any activities with her. They would remain unaware of her troubles, and she could help her grandmother.
She could even claim that she was interested in the ritualistic aspect of Buddhism—she would come up with any excuse. She might even say that she would consider becoming a monk herself if necessary.
Her plan seemed flawless. Technically. If it unfolded as expected.
However, if he cannot help at all...she will still use him as an excuse to her grandparents, pretending she got lost, at least to save face.
And she would have to leave room for her Plan B.
That man.
Too bad he was the most troublesome and dangerous option, yet potentially the most effective.
Mariya wandered through the complex, encountering a few people whom she asked about a monk, only to receive shakes of the head. Soon, she was alone again. If this continued, she might truly get lost and never meet one—
Her entire body froze, her heart nearly leaping from her chest, breath catching —all in a split second.
A pivotal second.
No.
It was too good to be true.
The man was there.
Right there.
She saw him, in one of the corridors, moving like a silent, menacing shadow. Like the threat he was.
As if by some twisted magic, he stood within the temple grounds!
Her mind abruptly went blank, thoughts tangling and colliding in a chaotic echo inside her head, manifesting in the uncontrollable trembling of her body. A rush of heat turned her blood cold.
As for her earlier resolutions?
They evaporated instantly as the now familiar energy surged through her veins, engulfing her entirely.
Unable to contain herself, Mariya charged towards him with the determination of a bulldozer, catching him as he turned a corner. Her gaze remained fixed on him, refusing to let him slip away. This wasn't mere chance. If fate had brought him into her path, she wouldn't hesitate this time.
With each stride, her mind replayed the scene like a broken record — she couldn't help herself.
Monkey.
Her fists clenched against her sides, her heart pounding.
I hate being touched.
A whirlwind of thoughts clashed in her mind until one emotion emerged triumphant: anger.
The dam was truly, and irrevocably breaking now.
A profound, almost primal rage gripped her, drowning out all reason. A crimson haze descended over her vision, obscuring her thoughts. Her original intention to gather information about him to assist her grandmother vanished from her mind entirely. The altruistic devotion?
To. The. Trash.
Normally, Mariya was a thoughtful girl, possessing a strong sense of self-control. She preferred to avoid unnecessary confrontations to preserve her inner peace. Yet, that didn't mean she was a doormat for anyone to walk over as they pleased.
God forbid!
Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't even contemplate confronting a man bearing an uncanny resemblance to a yakuza.
If he had merely bumped into her, she wouldn't have bothered saying anything—it would've been futile. It wouldn't have kept her awake at night, and honestly, she couldn't care less. Nor would she have reacted if he had threatened her for no apparent reason. She didn't want to end up seriously hurt when she could easily have avoided the confrontation.
However, Mariya's dilemma lay in her tendency to lose all restraint the moment her anger flared violently, despite her generally calm demeanor. Nevertheless, there was always one thing that restrained her when she reached her breaking point: promises she had made to herself or others. Yet, at this moment, she had completely lost control. This should have set off alarm bells, as her reaction was entirely out of character. But Mariya was no longer thinking clearly.
He called her a monkey. And then he threatened her when she refused to accept it. Was it because she appeared foreign? It was undeniably a racist insult!
Another surge of fury raced through her veins, her blood boiling, and her eyes blazing with rage, like twin lasers. Her breath felt like razor-sharp blades in her chest.
Did she want to have trouble with a potential member of organized crime?
No
Was she going to tolerate racial insults and threats?
No
For Mariya, her integrity and honor meant everything.
What would it say about her character if she did nothing? How could she just stand by and allow it to happen? It was unthinkable, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
Never, under any circumstances, would she forgive herself.
In this moment, she was consumed with thoughts of herself, which was so, so terrible because so much more was at stake—her grandmother's well-being hung in the balance. Yet, she was unable to consider it at that moment.
The flames of anger surged higher within her, intensifying into a blazing inferno as she deftly maneuvered around him and positioned herself directly in his path. With sudden determination, she extended her arms out to each side of her body, blocking his path.
A cold droplet of sweat traced a chilling path down her back. The man blinked in surprise. Mariya couldn't help but feel a rush of satisfaction; it was the first reaction he had in her presence that wasn't mocking .
But she wasn't finished yet.
The roaring fire inside of her wasn't finished.
Mariya deliberately extended her arm towards him, ensuring he couldn't miss it. It was as if she was silently conveying, watch what I'm about to do.
Her fingers tightened around his yukata. She attempted to pull him towards her, but he remained steadfast, his body firm and unyielding. Undeterred, she took a step closer, maintaining her grip on him, her fist firmly clenched around the fabric.
She caught the subtle widening of his eyes as she closely monitored his reactions.
It was his second reaction to her. Surprise.
Drawing in a deep breath, she allowed the oxygen to fill her throat, coursing through her body...
The words tumbled out of her mouth, her throat raw, her blood pulsating from cold to warm.
"You know what distinguishes a monkey from a donkey?" articulated Mariya. Strangely, her tone wasn't icy or heated; it was composed, collected. A notable difference from the furnace burning inside her. Which was bizarre, unusual. Her throat was parched, burning from the bile. She spoke with a confidence she hadn't realized she possessed. All she wanted to do was color the air blue. But that was lame — swearing was lame, ineffective, and ugly. On the contrary, here, she was exceedingly polite, which might have seemed almost ridiculous, except she was subtly insulting him in this way.
She knew he wouldn't mind swearing .
He raised an eyebrow, appearing caught off guard, his gaze remaining frosty. It marked his third reaction. "Huh?"
"The monkey would steal the carrot and hit their tormentor with the stick to gain freedom, while the donkey is content to exist and let itself be ruled by its master," she continued a bit more sharply, a metallic taste of blood lingering on her tongue, anger dilating her pupils. Her stare hardened, crystallizing. She was on auto-pilot, as if she wasn't herself.
Chin raised, shoulders squared, her words were meticulously chosen, overly polite. Her eyes closed and she smiled, delicately, gently, too gently. "I would sooner face death than allow a donkey to play games with and mock me." She opened her eyes. "So, I kindly request that you refrain from speaking to me in such a manner again, not to me, nor to anyone else, for that matter. Don't get twisted! I hope I have been clear."
There.
She had said it.
A silence greeted her declaration. Mariya didn't budge an inch, her breath quickening, her hand still wrapped around the fabric of his yukata. She had no intention of letting go. The sensation, both cold and hot, lingered and put her on edge. Her body tensed, alert, expecting anything.
The man's gaze remained cool, but a spark of interest flickered deep within his eyes, lending them a hint of clarity, making them less vacant. His eyebrow relaxed, and he emitted a bemused 'eeeeh.' Fourth reaction—completely unexpected!
"Don't think I've ever been called a donkey before, that's new."
The razor-sharp edge of her breath dulled to that of a butter knife, still possessing a hint of sharpness but now less unsettling, less perilous—much like his gaze. She hadn't yet come down from her high.
Mariya released a soft, almost imperceptible sigh through her mouth. Her lips pursed for a second.
"Coming from a Darwinist like yourself, it's not particularly surprising," Mariya retorted immediately, her tone retaining its sharpness despite her regained caution. The sharpness of her eyes remained equally dangerous.
"Darwinist, eh? Hmm... What is it called again…" He looked at the ceiling for a few seconds, as if he was bored, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Nothin' makes me less bored than some cash. The amount of shit you can buy when you're loaded feel almost like a spiritual awakening." The last words were spoken in a mocking manner, as if he was telling a joke only he could understand.
This time, Mariya's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.
Suddenly, she didn't know what to do. Her eyes widened as the realization of her actions hit her. Anger had made her see the world in red.
She was fully aware of how she let herself be dominated by it. And how she had been utterly selfish, a realization that drained the color from her face.
She had disregarded her grandmother completely.
Despite her lofty words, she had been entirely self-centered. Her breath caught in her chest, and a buzzing filled her ears.
Shock overtook her.
She had behaved like the worst kind of person - the selfish type she despised.
A growl rose within her, as shock and self-disgust reverberated through her body.
She became fully aware of her hand gripping his yukata, the words she had spoken.
And when she raised her wide-eyed gaze to him, she saw him staring back.
Silently.
That electrified her, and something deep whispered within her, in a hushed voice. I couldn't afford to lose face right now.
Then, her brain started racing, like a train traveling at sonic speed.
Maybe I could use it as an opportunity. He seemed — he doesn't seem as mean as earlier. Maybe-maybe something good will come out of my ridiculous actions. Maybe I can rectify my actions and think about my grandma for once.
She inhaled softly through her nose.
Mariya buried her guilty feelings inside of her, as she needed to focus on the situation she was facing right now.
Time to fetch something good out of it.
Should I let go of his yukata or not? What should I do?
Mariya decided to play it safe and forced her fingers to release their grip on his clothes. She then looked at him cautiously, more reserved and calm, her blood pounding in her temples.
He didn't seem like the kind of man who bothered with manners or wasted his time. Yet, he hadn't moved since they started interacting, nor had he threatened her like before.
Mariya was clear-headed about the situation; she was likely just the unexpected entertainment in his yakuza day. He hadn't anticipated her chasing him down and calling him a donkey.
In his eyes, she must have seemed like a brat trying to stand up to him, just a source of amusement.
"I think," he began lazily just as she was about to speak, "that I like being a monkey more than a donkey."
He caught her off guard. What? Seeing her expression, he gave a dry, ironic smile.
"Well, sweetheart? Up until now, you were a smartass. Where did all that pride go, huh?"
"Still there. It will not go anywhere, trust me. I still haven't seen yours, though." Mariya responded, lifting her chin. "Also, don't call me sweetheart, you're being too familiar with me. That's inappropriate."
He let out a mocking breath, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly, his lazy eyes definitely amused as they fixed on her. "I'm not hitting on you, if that's what you're worried about." He tilted his head slowly, like a cat, his hair brushing against his collar. "You don't have any money, do you?"
Whaaaaaaaat? Was he—?
"Are you trying to shake me down?" Mariya asked finally, shocked, crossing her arms defensively. "Just so you know, even if I had cash on me, you wouldn't get a cent. Threats don't work on me." She had never been shaken down before, and she wasn't about to start now.
What the heck?! Was he dirt-broke or-?
"Not really my style," he replied, yawing until tearing up. Not even covering his mouth with his large hand. "Also don't tempt me, I'm very good at threats." No kidding.
Mariya blinked, bemused. Was she really having an entire conversation with this yakuza? A completely surreal conversation.
...but a conversation nonetheless. Perhaps she had achieved her goal, despite not finding a monk as originally intended. Maybe now was the time to ask him how he managed to intimidate hollows.
A glimmer of hope lit up inside of her.
She opened her mouth, mind blank.
"...Uh." she managed to say.
"Why the shyness, huh? Weren't you all like, 'I will sooner face death' earlier?" he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
She cringed, and inquired cautiously, her face red, "Would you rather be dead than being insulted and doing nothing about it?" She studied him intently, attempting to unravel his motives, to understand him. To decipher him.
He raised his eyebrows, seeming interested in her questions. His smile was wry, and twisted as he gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling "If I were you, I'd rather kill over an offense than get killed defending myself from one."
Suddenly, he fixed his gaze on her. His eyes appeared hollow, lacking the spark that had briefly reassured her. Mariya felt her heart constrict. A shiver crept down her spine, as though an icy wave had just swept over her. She didn't immediately realize it, but her body reacted instinctively, taking a step back as if to shield itself from this abrupt chill in her soul.
His smile morphed into a mocking one in response to her actions, the emptiness of his being frightening her to her very core. Oh God, oh God, I couldn't even ask-
"You scared?"
A wave of hotness washed over her face, reddening her cheeks. His remark pricked at Mariya, and she clenched her fists. She raised her chin, shivers running down her skin. "So? I'm still here." Then, her voice came out more firmly as she reigned on that impulsive part of her and thought about her initial plan, seizing the opportunity. "Tell me how you do it."
A raised eyebrow. "Huh?"
"How do you make people afraid? Give me your secret." She stared at him, wishing she could elaborate more but she was hesitant. That was the best she could do without looking like a madwoman. Without talking about her family.
The ice in his eyes didn't exactly melt, but his gaze became clearer. He scratched his chin, looking pensive, observing her carefully.
Mariya felt like she was playing a game of Russian roulette with him. His moods were a puzzle she couldn't solve. One minute, he seemed relatively composed, almost playful, if not mocking, and the next, she felt as if he were poised to slit her throat!
Yet, she had grasped something. She would keep him interested if she surprised him. So far, each of her actions had elicited a surprise from him. She must continue in this vein if she wanted to get what she wanted.
Not revealing my hand and eliciting a reaction to obtain what I want.
She had every reason to continue as she was, despite his erratic mood swings that kept her on edge.
That meant she did good in spite of everything. He was the confrontational type. She could salvage it!
As a heavy silence settled between them, Mariya couldn't help but speak, her discomfort evident. "I mean... it's not just about being six inches taller and having abs of steel."
"Just curious... you hitting on me?" he interjected.
Her thoughts stopped.
"Excuse me?" she asked, taken aback.
"You know, I could ask for a payback for how you're bothering me," he retorted.
"Huh?"
"I didn't feel you tailing me," he leaned in closer, hands tucked into the sleeves of his yukata, scrutinizing her with eyes as keen as an eagle's. He loomed over her, his full height imposing. Towering her completely.
"What?"
"You ain't even following me. It's all just a fluke. But here you are, coming at me like you got some kinda threat, when you probably weigh 25 pounds on a good day." He tilted his head to the side. "And now you're asking me for lessons on how to scare people. You feeling me or something? While I might be destined for hell, I ain't interested in brats. You must be ten or something."
Mariya's jaw dropped. Again.
He thought he was going to hell?
He thought she was interested in him? Didn't he say she didn't have money earlier?
I'm not ten years old!
There were too many problematic pieces of information to digest at once. Her brain struggled to decipher them immediately, so stunned was she.
"Just hold on a second, sir. You're going way too far with your imagination," Mariya exclaimed, raising both hands as if to say 'calm down'. Her heart skipped a beat; she hoped he wouldn't take it the wrong way.
She narrowed her eyes. Whatever!
"I'm not trying to hit on you, I already, um... have a boyfriend." Yup, he's got white hair, too! She needed to make that clear, and telling him she had a boyfriend might just convince him she wasn't interested!
He looked utterly uninterested at that piece of information about her non-existent love life, though. Yet, he still added, seemingly because he was that wry, that sarcastic. "Hope for you he will never find out how you groped me, sweetheart."
Mariya opened her eyes wide. She blushed at the reminder of how she had almost undressed him. I didn't grope him! Gosh!
"And I'm fifteen!" she insisted, choosing to completely ignore what he said. No, she wasn't going there!
"Wow, that changes a lot," he replied dryly. "Ten or fifteen, you'll still be eight."
"Old man's logic," she couldn't help but mutter. It was the same logic as her father's. She'd always be three years old in his eyes, even if she was eighty.
He shrugged and finally responded. "Try putting on some muscle, gaining ten more inches, and getting abs of steel." The sarcasm was thick, and Mariya had the distinct impression that people often took what he said the wrong way. He seemed to not care at all about what others might think of him, saying and doing whatever pleased him. With the oppressive aura he emitted, people wouldn't even dare to lecture him anyway.
Mariya's shoulders tensed slightly as she tried another tactic, employing his own brand of sarcasm. "I'm eight years old, I can't do that."
He let out a soft whistle, his perennial dry amusement etched on his face. "I'm not sure if I appreciate your audacity, or if it's starting to amuse me less ."
But his eyes still held that faint glimmer, so Mariya took it as a good sign.
"You need this," Mariya said cautiously, rubbing her thumb and index finger together in the universal sign for money.
He stared at her for a moment. This time, he didn't seem to get it.
Mariya paused. Why didn't he seem to understand—
Before she realized!
The sign might not be as universal as she thought!
Her cheeks flushed. She must have looked completely foolish!
"You need cash, I mean!" she clarified.
"Not sure you've got an amount that meets my criteria, precious," he said, raising an eyebrow.
"Who said it would be up to me to pay?"
"The fuck?" Raising the eyebrow higher.
Heart pounding, but wearing a confident demeanor, Mariya extended her arm. Slowly, she delicately lifted the sleeve of her kimono, revealing her wrist.
Showing him the bruise caused by his iron grip.
With a dry throat, but adopting a falsely calm tone, she declared boldly, "I could ask for compensation for almost breaking my arm. Do you have the money?"
His expression froze in what could only be described as disbelief. The man wasn't expressive; it was more in the arch of his eyebrows, the slight widening of his eyes. His mouth was shut, the corner pulled downward.
The silence between them stretched on endlessly. Mariya's body tensed under the weight of this apparent calmness, like the heaviness of a semi-truck.
Then, he burst into laughter. Her surprise was staggering. Mariya hadn't expected to make him laugh. Stunned, she could only stare at him as he chuckled. It wasn't a booming laughter, nor was it ugly. It wasn't short, or dry, like earlier either.
It…. was .
His face, still as tough-looking, still as indifferent as ever, was illuminated by a subtle glow.
He had his head tilted slightly back, one hand on his face, his already quiet laughter muffled by it. Mariya continued to stare at him, dumbfounded.
"Aaaah," he sighed softly, fingers still splayed across his face, one piercing eye fixed on her. It was slightly glowing….a tears? Seriously? "No one has ever dared to pull that on me before."
Mariya parted her lips to speak, and ask him, that time if he saw them -
"Zen'in-san," a calm voice suddenly interrupted. Mariya spun around, her heart racing, surprised. She had been so engrossed in their exchange that she had forgotten her surroundings.
There, in front of her, stood a monk.
...
She almost rubbed her eyes in bewilderment.
A MONK. Her plan A!
Mariya couldn't believe it.
As she had searched every corner of the temple, he was nowhere to be found. And now, he magically appeared to her just as she was resorting to her plan B!? It was exactly like searching for an item she desperately needed. Every other time, it was always there, within reach (of course!). But as soon as she needed it? Poof! It would suddenly disappear. Someone was definitely playing a prank on her.
She looked at him almost in dismay, holding back a growl. She nearly tsked out loud.
His eyes caught her off guard. They were a deep brown, almost jet black. His face appeared serene yet serious, and his aura was intimidating. Mariya swallowed gently, shivers running down her spine. She had always been impressed by the presence some people possessed, but she was learning to withstand it and not shrink into herself. Strangely, she thought of Satoru at that moment and realized that the monk, while impressive, was nothing like his presence.
And certainly not like Zen'in's. The name of the dangerous man she was conversing with. Mariya repeated the name in her head. It even formed on the tip of her tongue. No . He was nothing like the man beside her.
And she had stood up to him. Somewhere, even if it was foolish, she felt proud of herself.
"Fushiguro," the man cut in, his voice sharp and dangerous. "I already told you that. You don't want to anger me."
The monk smiled with a serenity Mariya had never seen before. And yet, he was being threatened!
Then she realized…
He was threatening a monk! Mariya wanted to shoot him a look, the kind that meant 'what the heck, show some respect'. But she didn't dare. Coward.
"Fushiguro-san. We are in a sacred temple, reach your inner peace," said the monk, and Mariya tensed, shivers running down her spine. The hairs on her skin stood up, and her instinct screamed 'danger!'
Abruptly, she feared for the monk. Without being able to control herself, Mariya rushed almost towards him, cutting short any—she didn't know what.
"Hm, Sensei?" she asked politely. She was glad she had asked her grandfather how to address a monk! These thoughts gave her strength, she gently breathed in through her nose, and smiled politely, bowing and quickly continued. "Sorry to bother you, Sensei. I just wanted to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind. I'm Hibino Mariya."
Say yes, say yes, say yesssss. Because you might end up being chopped into pieces right now!
Before the kind monk could respond, she suddenly heard an amused huff behind her, and the man walked past her. She could feel the pressure of his personality all against her bones, her skin. She gritted her teeth to not buckle but held her ground. A cold sweat ran down her back. "You're lucky she is spunky enough to amuse me, monk. Let's go."
Mariya almost reached out to hold him back because she hadn't gotten the answer she was looking for, despite everything.
But as much as Mariya didn't like being walked over and stood her ground, Mariya was also a smart girl.
And Mariya wasn't going to risk getting her arm broken for real because she had pulled his yukata again.
Her panicked gaze fell on the monk who was walking away. She couldn't let him get away!
He was her plan A.
"Sensei!" she called again, trailing behind him, trying to let her voice low and polite. The monk stopped and looked at her patiently. "Fushiguro-san, please, continue without me. I will join you in a second."
The man just waved, yawning and disappeared around the corner of the temple's long hallway.
The monk looked at her gently and peacefully, his brown eyes resembling hot chocolate. A reassuring sight.
Mariya felt immediately at ease, though she was wondering why Zen'in and a monk would know each other. But she was too polite to ask intrusive questions, and her opportunity had slipped away.
She couldn't follow Zen'in but at least she knew his name, now.
Who was he?
What was he doing in a temple? Why was he so sure he was going to hell? Did he solicit this monk out of fear?
No. The response was immediate within herself. He didn't seem to fear anything.
He was disillusioned by everything.
She pursed her lips and shook her head to clear her thoughts.
Now was not the time to dwell on that.
She looked at the monk who was waiting patiently.
Now that she had the monk's attention, Mariya didn't know what to say. Should she talk to him about her grandmother? No, not yet... she could first test the waters.
"I'm—feeling strange lately." she started, and the monk nodded, waiting patiently, his kind eyes trailed on her.
"I—sometimes I feel a pressure on me," she began. Did her grandmother feel pressure on her head? She didn't seem to... but the employee did. "Here." She pointed to her head.
"Have you consulted a doctor?" the monk asked calmly, and Mariya was sure he must be wondering why she was bringing up a potential health issue with him instead of seeking professional help.
Great.
She cleared her throat softly. "Uh, yes. But it's not about a headache. I just feel... sad sometimes, or tired. I think the high school entrance exams stressed me out a lot, and the homework. I think I messed up on the math test," she added quickly, thinking of that excuse at the last second.
She paused, before continuing. "I'm really stressed and anxious and I can't shake these feelings, you know? I've tried everything. So... I was wondering if you have a way to remove negative energy around me—or rather a way to relax. I've tried baths and essential oils, nothing works. I thought...I thought that something like a charm, or a bracelet might help. Even a ritual."
There, that way she didn't sound crazy either. And if he knew anything about her situation, he would read between the lines, right?
"Removing negative energy," he murmured.
Mariya tilted her head slightly as he repeated her words. It seemed peculiar. Had she phrased it incorrectly? Or perhaps she had made a mistake in Japanese? Despite being perfectly bilingual (even a polyglot), Mariya understood she could still make language errors, especially since Japanese wasn't her most frequently used language. She had undergone intensive language courses and conversed with her parents in Japanese whenever she pleased (her mother, although not Japanese, had learned the language before meeting her father). Moreover, she exclusively communicated in Japanese with her grandparents, and all the anime, manga, and novels she consumed were in Japanese. All that to say, this did not guarantee immunity from potential mistakes.
"Yes. I'm not sure if I'm saying it correctly," she said, biting her lower lip, trying to think of another term. "Negative energy, like... bad vibes ?"
"Mariya-chan?" called a familiar voice. It was her grandmother. Mariya quickly turned her head towards her. Her grandparents! They had clearly been looking for her. She had taken too long to return.
Her heart leapt into her throat.
She prayed they hadn't seen anything of her encounter with Zen'in. No, that was impossible. They would have caught up to her much sooner.
In fact, their timing was perfect.
"Grandmother, Grandfather!" Mariya exclaimed, her face flushing with embarrassment. Oh no, she couldn't hide her nervousness. "I met this monk and had some questions for him…"
She hesitated. Damn. If he mentioned that she wasn't feeling well, it would surely make them feel guilty!
Mariya glanced at the monk, hoping he understood that she didn't want him to reveal what she had confided.
The monk's eyes were fixed on her grandmother in a way Mariya found... strange. Her spine stiffened, and Mariya followed his gaze intently. It was aimed directly at her grandmother's head. A blink later, and he was now looking at her grandfather.
Mariya's entire body tensed. Had she imagined his focus on the hollow? She wanted to believe it was just her imagination. But the hollow... it suddenly seemed on high alert. It was always tense, but now it was even more so. Mariya couldn't believe her eyes. This was the second time today she had encountered someone who elicited such reactions from these creatures.
Was it because he was deeply religious? Zen'in... she wasn't sure. He didn't seem to be. She couldn't help but think again that both of them knew each other.
Mariya hadn't looked away, and then she met her grandfather's gaze, which was fixed on her like a laser.
Oops. She smiled nonchalantly, feeling her face heat up. "Uh, I was talking with—"
"You can call me Kukai," the monk said gently, turning towards her. His eyes held a light she couldn't quite describe. Despite that, she felt comfortable with him, at ease.
She sensed he was a good person. He gave her that warm feeling she always experienced when she was with her family. In fact, he even reminded her of her uncle. That same tranquil aura, that serenity emanating from him, as if he could face life with the flexibility and adaptability of water. Was it because they were both devoted? Mariya suddenly wondered, her heart leaping.
They also shared this common trait: their devotion to a religion.
He also had the same name as the monk who had built the temple, , which surprised her, as she tilted her head to the side, quietly. Was it his real name or an honorific?
"We were discussing charms with your granddaughter," he continued, and Mariya realized he understood she didn't want to share her concerns with her grandparents. A point in his favor. Her heart squeezed with warm. Oh, how different this interaction was from her encounter with Zen'in. Perhaps, if the two knew each other, Monk Kukai could help him deal with his murderous tendencies…
"Yes, I was asking if he had any charms, given that we're in a temple," Mariya quickly added with a nervous laugh.
"Pleased to meet you, Sensei. We are the Hojo family," her grandmother said softly with a polite smile. "I'm not surprised, Mariya-chan seems very interested in religion. And since it's her birthday, we decided to come visit and explore."
This seemed to capture Monk Kukai's interest. "A future follower of the Shingon sect?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe," her grandmother replied warmly, looking at her granddaughter with a soft, questioning gaze.
Mariya froze. No, she wasn't interested in joining the Shingon sect. But she didn't know how to express that delicately without causing offense. Her refusal wasn't meant to be arrogant or disrespectful. Not at all.
Her cheeks suddenly bloomed red with stress and embarrassment, as she struggled to come up with an appropriate answer that wouldn't be perceived as an insult. Ugh!
"Mariya seems more interested in eschatology and the values of various religions," her grandfather finally spoke, coming to her rescue, like the superhero he was. She wanted to hug him so much right now, as he freed her form the pressure to answer. She sent him a discreet, grateful bright smile. Even he seemed extremely relaxed, though he maintained his usual stoicism.
"Your granddaughter has a curious mind, and that's a precious quality."
Then he turned his gentle brown eyes toward Mariya. "Many people come to me asking for charms—mostly to ward off negative energies. " Oh, how smooth that was! Mariya wanted to hug him at that moment, too. She wanted to hug a lot awesome people today! Except Zen'in. "And they're right. It's an important aspect to consider in the quest for inner peace. There are various practices and rituals in Buddhism aimed at purifying the mind and dispelling harmful energies."
Mariya hung on his every word, fascinated. In fact, the entire Hojo-Hibino family did. He had that kind of charisma.
He paused, as though carefully considering how best to articulate his thoughts. "Meditation, for instance, can help foster a positive mindset and dispel toxic thoughts and emotions."
Meditation, huh. Clearly, that wasn't working. Otherwise, her grandmother would have long been rid of the hollow. Disappointment tingled through Mariya's veins. A bitter taste invaded her mouth.
Another dead end, huh?
She was thinking of how to ask Monk Kukai for Zen'in's contacts without alerting her grandparents, when he mentioned, "But using sacred objects like blessed bracelets or talismans can shield against negative influences."
Mariya perked up at the mention of sacred objects. Protection against negative influences sounded exactly what her grandmother needed. It couldn't hurt to give it a try.
"Do you have any available here at the temple?" Mariya asked curiously, her heart beating fast. She could feel her grandfather's eyes on her like laser. Ugh.
"I still have charms from the previous Kobo-ichi that I can offer," he said in his clear and soothing voice.
Her grandmother's face lit up gently. "Really?"
"Absolutely. It's your granddaughter's birthday, after all. It's truly my pleasure to assist. It warms my heart to see young people so engaged in spirituality. And I believe it may also address your concerns."
Monk Kukai gestured for them to follow. Mariya exchanged a glance with her grandmother, who smiled encouragingly.
She then glanced at her grandfather, who nodded.
Well... here we go.
The teenage girl could hardly contain her excitement as they walked through the temple corridors toward the Mieno residence. Her eyes stayed fixed on the folds of the monk's robes, which swayed gently with his every step, like waves rippling on a calm lake. The fabric was a deep saffron yellow, worn and soft, as though it carried the weight of countless meditations and quiet mornings. The edges were frayed just slightly, whispering of long journeys and time spent kneeling on rough tatami mats.
Mariya's heart raced, a steady drumbeat in her chest, as her breath hitched unevenly. She tried to quiet her thoughts, but her imagination was running wild. Her gaze flitted from the hem of his robes to his sandals, crafted from well-worn straw, their soft rustling a soothing counterpoint to the echo of their footsteps against the polished wooden floor. The sound was rhythmic, almost hypnotic, weaving into the tranquil ambiance of the temple. Every step felt like a heartbeat of its own, grounding her, yet propelling her forward into the unknown.
The air in the corridor was cool, scented faintly with sandalwood and the earthy aroma of old wood. The sunlight played along the walls, creating shifting patterns that reminded Mariya of a kaleidoscope.
She had no idea what was going to happen. But a part of her was cautious, forcing her to calm down. She was getting her hopes up for nothing—there was no guarantee it would work. She didn't even know what could work.
Her mind darted between possibilities—what if the charms did nothing? What if they worked too well? What happened then?
Lord, she was driving herself crazy-
Her thoughts spiraled until a gentle pressure brought her back to the present. A hand rested on her shoulder. She turned her head to find her grandfather's steady gaze on her, calm yet piercing, like he could see the chaotic whirlwind of her emotions.
Oh no, thought Mariya, her stomach twisting as she saw the look on her grandfather's eyes. A pang of anxiey bloomed in her chest and she tried to summon calm, her lips twitching upward into a neutral expression.
"Yes?" she murmured finally, peering up at him, her tone careful but not too defensive.
Her grandfather didn't waste time. His voice was blunt, his words cutting through the pretense she'd so carefully erected. "I don't want to talk in front of your grandmother, but what's going on with you?"
Mariya's heart sank. The question struck her like an arrow, precise and unrelenting. The resemblance to her father in that moment—his tone, his posture, his unwavering concern—made her chest ache. She missed them, both of her parents, she realized, even though the situation didn't call for it, with a sharpness that didn't seem to dull.
Mariya swallowed gently and shook her head, forcing a natural smile onto her lips. "I'm fine, Grandpa, just a little confused, I assure you."
His frown deepened, the lines of his face sharpening like a sculptor's chisel had etched them in stone. Oh no, she thought for the second time, a bead of sweat forming at her temple. He didn't believe her. She couldn't blame him, though.
Her eyes flicked to her grandmother and Monk Kukai, who were still walking ahead, the monk's saffron robes catching the golden glow of sunlight. She licked her lower lip, tasting the faint tang of her strawberry-flavored gloss, and then gently linked her arm with her grandfather's. The gesture was small, but it tethered her to him in that moment, reminding her of his steady presence.
"I'm fine," she said more firmly this time, locking her amber eyes with his dark, searching gaze. As they began to walk again, her heart thudded against her ribs like a caged bird.
Ahead, her grandmother was speaking softly with the monk, her delicate voice carrying a tone of curiosity and warmth. The monk responded in kind, his voice low and even, as though it were designed to soothe. His every movement radiated purpose and tranquility. Yet, for Mariya, his serene presence, now, only heightened the tension in her chest. Each step brought her closer to something she could not yet name—a hope, a dread, or perhaps both.
Her grandfather glanced briefly toward his wife and the monk before turning back to her, his expression unreadable but heavy with concern. "I don't believe you. But I'll let it go for now. I just want you to promise me something, Mariya."
Her spine stiffened, but she didn't bother to lie this time. She simply nodded, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Yes, Grandpa?"
"Promise me that if you feel unwell with us, you'll tell us immediately."
Mariya almost turned her head too quickly toward her grandfather. "Grandpa, I assure you it's not beca—"
"Promise me," he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.
Mariya closed her mouth softly, a terrible feeling in her stomach. This was her worst fear—making him believe she was acting strangely because she didn't want to stay with them. She held back a sigh, not wanting to disrespect her grandfather, and nodded gently, meeting his gaze.
"I promise. But I swear, Grandpa, I feel very happy with both you." Mariya insisted, letting the sincerity of her words and feelings show on her face. She wasn't lying! It wasn't her grandparents who were the problem—it was those monsters she kept seeing. "Just...the sun, you know?"
Her grandfather scrutinized her carefully, once again. It seemed like nothing escaped his gaze. Except those monsters.
Again, she wondered:
How would they react if they saw what I saw?
Then, for a tiny, split second, she wished he could see them too, so she wouldn't be alone in this situation. But at the same time, she was relieved... a primal instinct awoke in her, a protective instinct, which screamed that it was better her grandfather couldn't see or interact with those creatures from hell.
That feeling almost overwelhmed her, as she inhaled to stay in control of herself, her skin taunt.
It took all her strength not to glance at her grandmother and the monster perched on her head. She forced herself to maintain eye contact with her grandfather. He, too, exuded charisma—a silent, protective shadow with an iron will.
They looked at each other, still walking behind her grandmother and the monk. The silence stretched on, making her heart race and her palms sweat.
Finally, her grandfather nodded. Mouth pursed. God...
"Fine. But do not forget your promise." He said, his voice softer. Mariya gently pressed herself against his side, her heart still squeezing.
Mariya let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She gently pressed herself against his side, a silent gesture of reassurance. Her voice, when it came, was low and steady when she articulated, "I won't."
And she wouldn't. Mariya didn't break promises
The monk led them into a room that stole Mariya's breath away.
The walls were alive with mythical scenes she couldn't recognize, yet they stirred something deep and ancient within her. Her gaze swept over faded murals and intricate tapestries depicting celestial gods and fearsome demons locked in perpetual combat. The faces of these figures, etched in expressions of fury and anguish, seemed to cry out silently from another world. She couldn't tear her eyes away; it felt as though the walls themselves were steeped in stories untold, brimming with the weight of what seemed forgotten legends.
Slowly, Mariya detached herself from her grandfather, taking a tentative step forward. The air here was different—heavier, charged with an ancient energy that seemed to vibrate just beneath her skin.
She could almost hear it, a low hum that resonated through her bones. Her breath hitched as she let her eyes wander over the faded murals and elaborate tapestries depicting gods and monsters locked in eternal conflict, their expressions frozen in rage, sorrow, or triumph. Something ached inside of her - perhaps the beauty of it all. She winced, rubbing her temples.
The room was dimly lit, with warm golden light emanating from ornate lanterns suspended from the ceiling. Their flickering glow cast restless shadows, making the painted figures appear to writhe and whisper secrets she couldn't quite hear.
She shivered, the feeling both thrilling and unnerving.
The hollow atop her grandmother's head began to stir. Mariya's chest tightened. She froze, alarm flashing through her as she instinctively shifted her weight back, her amber eyes darting toward the creature.
It had never done this before—not when they had walked through the temple's grand halls or even when she had drawn attention to it. Until now, it had always remained perfectly still, eerily so, responsive only when she directed her attention toward it.
But here, it moved.
Why?
Against one wall stood a simple table draped in a vibrant red cloth, standing out like a lone ember in a sea of firelight. The bright color immediately drew Mariya's focus, a bold interruption in the mystical, muted tones of the room (and helped her not think about that damned hollow).
Upon the table rested an array of objects: tiny statuettes of serene Buddhas and fierce deities, intricately painted fans, delicate bracelets with shimmering beads, and a small yellow box that seemed almost luminous in the dim light. Mariya squinted, unable to discern if it was made of iron or gold, its surface smooth but enigmatic.
Monk Kukai approached the table with a deliberate calmness, his movements fluid and unhurried and picked up one of the bracelets on the table. He turned to Mariya, extending his arm toward her with a kind smile, handing it to her.
Oh.
The beads, a deep crimson, caught the light in a way that made them appear almost alive, their surface gleaming like polished gemstones. Mariya almost objected before remembering she had requested one for herself, not her grandmother.
With trembling fingers, she slid the bracelet onto her wrist, "Thanks."
The beads felt cool against her skin, their weight grounding yet comforting. As she turned her wrist to inspect it, she marveled at its craftsmanship. Damn, it doesn't look cheap, she thought. Each bead was flawless, its surface glinting as though infused with an inner light.
Mariya couldn't possibly ask for more, right? She could just give this one to her grandmother.
But Monk Kukai beat her to the punch, saying, with a warm smile, "And here another one for you."
Mariya almost leapt in joy. Awesome!
"Oh, we couldn't possibly—" her grandmother began.
Her body tensed slightly, as she tried to keep her facial expression under control and avoid showing her disappointment. Pleaaaase Grandma!
"It's perfectly fine," Monk Kukai insisted.
This time, a slight grin spread on Mariya's face as she followed their exchange, as if watching a tennis play. You're the best Monk Kukai!
Her grandmother hesitated, then nodded, slipping one of the bracelets onto her wrist with a quiet murmur of thanks.
The moment the beads touched her grandmother's skin, the hollow reacted violently.
A shrill, unearthly cry pierced the room, so loud and sharp it felt like it would split Mariya's skull, nearly deafening her. Instinctively, she covered her ears, squeezing them shut, eyes wide with surprise and terror. The cry wasn't just a sound—it was a physical force, vibrating through her chest, her limbs, her very soul.
A tremor rippled through the air, subtle but undeniable, as though the room itself had momentarily shifted.
"Mariya-chan?" Her grandmother's voice cut through the chaos, soft yet tinged with concern. She seemed completely oblivious to the hollow's reaction.
As usual, only her could hear, and see, and feel.
Mariya forced herself to stand upright, her hands still covering her ears as she tried to steady her breathing. Her face was pale, and her heart raced, but she struggled to appear calm.
"Miss?" Monk Kukai's voice followed, his calm demeanor tinged with curiosity and concern.
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the shrieking stopped.
Mariya blinked, disoriented by the abrupt silence. She lowered her hands cautiously, her heart still hammering in her chest. She looked toward her grandmother, her breath hitching.
It had disappeared.
Vanished, as though it had never existed.
Her gaze remained fixed on her grandmother, wide with disbelief. Her mind raced to comprehend what had just happened.
The hollow… it was gone.
Just like that.
It had disappeared.
As suddenly as it had appeared, it was no more. Relief washed over her in waves, mingling with disbelief and awe.
She had succeeded.
Notes:
And that's the end of chapter 4!
It's a slow start, I apologize for those who want to see directly the characters and - gojo ehe but a little patience! It's coming soon
What did you think? Mariya has contradictory thoughts and actions throughout. She's trying her best to get out of the situation she's in. She doesn't even understand what's going on! It was a bit dizzying to write it that way, usually she stays pretty linear in her way of being, but here she's clearly disturbed. And she's aware of it. She's learning that things don't go as planned, especially under stress.
What did you think of her confrontation with Toji? Mariya finally knew his name! Fun fact, she's calling him Zen'in out of spite since he looked like he despised it lmao
Would you be as disturbed as she was? (yes, always with my indiscreet questions, I'm not as polite as Mariya :P)
Until next time ~