Shinrabansho: Myriad Souls

A figure stood where the roofline met the morning sky, one foot planted on old tile, the other on the narrow ridge that ran like a seam along the house’s spine, the silhouette broken up by the thin branches of a nearby tree reaching over from some neighboring yard. The city beyond was already awake, already moving, already forgetting itself in the noise of trains moving and distant traffic, but this rooftop kept a pocket of quiet, holding stillness like a held breath.

Below, the garden spread in tidy care, a crafted slice of green and stone set within Tokyo. There was a deck wrapping the old house with sun-warmed wood, a small path that curved past sculpted shrubs, and the familiar sight of nine-tailed fox statues standing in rows like patient guardians, their faces turned toward a low structure tucked near the edge, an arrangement that marked the portal’s location without announcing it to anyone who did not already know what they were looking at. Even the ginkgo, proud and broad, were placed with intent, their leaves trembling and flashing pale green whenever the wind combed through them.

In the yard, a girl moved through martial-arts kata with the kind of precision that made her body seem like it recognized its potential for the first time, stepping, turning, drawing her arms and legs through clean arcs, shifting her weight and catching it again, repeating the sequence without rushing, the motion becoming a rhythm that belonged to her the way breath belonged to lungs. Her hair clung to the back of her neck in the early warmth, her shoulders rising and falling with effort, her focus tight enough that the world seemed to bend around it.

Across the deck, three figures sat at careful distances, their spacing odd in a way that did not match ordinary morning gatherings, as if something invisible had been laid between them like glass. One of them had black hair that leaned towards blue tied back in a ponytail, her fierce steel blue eyes, her posture relaxed, her skin faintly tanned, her smile soft, that girl sat a little apart from the others, her smile steady, her eyes on Sumire without blinking. The other two, a tall girl with chocolate brown eyes expressing fierceness and long black hair, and a girl wearing a sweet expression, extremely calm and composed with long braided purple hair and blue eyes, watched Sumire practice with open appreciation and admiration.

From above, the figure watched the entire arrangement as it unfolded, observing how the garden’s stillness changed, and tracking the subtle tension in Sumire’s shoulders even while she continued moving, because a body always sensed truth before a mind could grasp it. 

Below, Sumire finished the last motion of her kata, planting her feet and holding her stance long enough for the sequence to end cleanly, her arms settling, her breath dragging a little harder in her chest, sweat cooling at her temples as the wind slipped through the yard. She let her shoulders loosen, rolling them once, exhaling, and then her gaze lifted toward the deck, noticing most of her audience.

My body stopped the moment my eyes registered their presence. My hair plastered to my face and neck in places and my muscles ached pleasantly. I was truly grateful that my period had been interrupted by Baku’s dream world. It would have been much harder to practice through the pain. I was resigned to the fact that perhaps next month it would come again.

I stared in disbelief at them, my eyes moistening.

Aoi.

Riko.

Yuna.

They looked exactly the same as always, wearing their uniforms. Here in the real world, not the gentle lie of a place designed to give you what you wanted and needed most, but sitting on the house’s deck overlooking Natalia-sama’s garden under the morning sunlight, the ginkgo leaves fluttering behind me in the breeze.

My throat tightened so fast it hurt, my hands hanging half-raised in front of me, my brain scrambling for something rational to hold onto, because I knew that this could not possibly be real. I knew that because I had already lost them, because I had already said goodbye to them in the saddest way, because I was awake and they were just figments… Well, not entirely.

I stumbled one step forward, then another, staring so hard my eyes burned, and when nothing changed, when the scene refused to fade, I pinched my cheeks with both hands, squeezing until it stung sharply, until my skin warmed under my fingers, until my tears blurred the edges of everything anyway.

“Ow,” I whispered, not because it helped, but because it was the only sound I could manage.

Riko spoke first, with her familiar voice, her mouth tightening for half a second in a way that meant she was fighting not to cry too and also fighting not to say something uncool, as if both urges were equally strong and equally humiliating.

“Sumire… It’s good to see that you haven’t forgotten how to move,” she said, her voice steadying itself by her willpower, sounding exactly like she used to, making it seem like she had never been taken away from me at all.

Yuna’s hands were folded neatly in her lap, her posture composed, her eyes too bright, blinking once as she looked at me, a tear rolling down her cheek, her expression softening with the kind of warmth that always made my chest ache even when I was happy.

“Good morning, Sumire. I can tell that you don’t have any nasty sprains to treat after all that practice. It shows how far your training took you,” Yuna said, the simplicity of her greeting shattering me more than anything else. It was the Yuna that I missed. The one who always nagged me the most about hydration and taking care of my body.

My breath hitched, my eyes widening as tears spilled down my cheeks, not delicate, not pretty, just falling and falling while my hands flew up to my chest as if I could hold my heart together with the gesture. I turned my head, almost violently, to find Aoi, my wife, because I needed to confirm that she was real too.

Aoi sat farthest from the others, leaning back on her hands with her legs folded to the side, her smile gentle, her gaze steady on me in a way that made my stomach twist, because she looked calm, and she looked proud.

Her eyes did not quite meet mine in that moment, her gaze flicking away like a kid pretending she was not watching the reaction she had caused, but when she spoke, it came out with Aoi’s voice, so much hers that my chest squeezed painfully, just a hair off in a way that reminded me it actually wasn’t.

“You’re not dreaming, in case you’re thinking that, Sumire,” she said, sounding like she was trying to pretend she did not care.

“I know… that’s why I pinched my cheeks. It hurts too much for this to be a dream.” I nodded, my chest aching as much as my cheeks.

I started moving before I fully decided to, crossing the little bit of yard between us with my legs still aching from the kata I performed, my shoes scuffing lightly on the deck as I climbed up and stopped close, then stopped because I understood. My mind caught up to my body.

Riko’s eyes went wide as I stepped toward her, and Yuna leaned forward too, their faces crumpling in the same second, sniffling like they were both trying to hold themselves together and failing at it in matching ways.

I opened my arms without thinking, needing to wrap them up in a big hug, needing to squeeze them, needing to make it feel real through physical touch.

Riko lifted a hand sharply, her palm facing me, cutting me off like she was stopping a child from stepping into heavy traffic.

“No,” she said, her voice tight, her eyes wet. “You can’t hug us. I wish we could. Let’s just talk it out.”

Yuna nodded, her lips trembling, her hands tightening together as if she was bracing. “Please,” she added, softer, but firm, “that’s all we can do.”

My arms hovered for a second, then dropped, my shoulders slumping as I nodded quickly, wiping my cheeks with the back of my wrist and only smearing the tears more. I sat down on the deck where they had left space for me, tucking my legs under myself, keeping the distance between us like a rule carved into the deck’s wood, my hands twisting together in my lap as I tried to breathe without shaking.

For a moment, none of us spoke, the only sound being the wind moving through the ginkgo leaves, making them rustle gracefully overhead, the garden shifting with a slow, elegant motion that made the world soften. The lone ivy-choked statue sat in sight among the fox statues, their stone faces lined up and watching, the arrangement both comforting and unnerving because it reminded me of exactly where it had taken us. A two-way portal to the yōkai world.

My eyes kept flickering toward Aoi, and she kept smiling, saying nothing.

“I miss Baku’s dream world… I miss you all,” I said finally, my voice rough, my throat still tight, and the words came out like I had been holding them behind my teeth. “Those days were truly wonderful.”

“Yeah… I’d go back without much hesitation too… but…” Riko gritted her teeth and shook her head. Her brow furrowed, her mouth pulling into something forced as she fought against the tears. “There’s other things that I miss even more.” Her hands moved to slide up her body, but she shook her head and let them fall to her sides.

“I have a lot of regrets.” I muttered. “...especially about you and Yuna-chan,” I said, laying back on the deck, swallowing, forcing myself to keep going, because if I stopped I might drown in my sadness. “And I had a real family there for the first time, loving parents and little brother that I cherished. —I know that they were not real, I know they never really existed, but they felt real to me, more than my actual family… my mother and father.” I laughed bitterly. “I even have memories of Reiko’s parents and her childhood too, although she keeps me from looking too closely at certain things.” I clutched my head in frustration. “Aughhh! I miss that world so damn much…! And everyone in it so much I feel sick, and I hate that I miss them this much, knowing that they were just figments… not real. It makes me feel like I’m clinging to a happy lie instead of actually living.”

Yuna’s eyes softened further, her chin dipping as if she was listening with her whole body, her breath slow and controlled even while tears gathered at her lashes, saying nothing.

“I miss you,” I admitted, my voice cracking, my hands clenching in my lap. “I miss you all. Especially you, though I shouldn’t say that.” My eyes flicked to Aoi, because even now my heart wanted to reach for her first, even though I had a lot of regrets about focusing entirely on her until the end. The ache that followed was sharp. “It is not easy to let go of it all.”

Riko leaned forward a little, closing the distance by a fraction, her shoulders drawing inward as if she wanted to be much closer than she could be, but did not dare.

“I wish that we’d done it, Susu. But you at least let me feel what it’d have been like… You were very gentle and tender… not like a man.”

I nodded quietly. “I do too.”

“We still can…” Riko licked her lips. “In spirit…”

“I suppose… but I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. I just lost my wife, you know.” I smiled wryly.

Yuna slipped closer too, longing for contact like me, and for one awful second my body tensed up. I wished that we could touch each other. We all knew that the moment we let go, the spell would be broken. I was very much afraid they would vanish before we actually managed to say much. I wasn’t ready to lose even this.

“That’s why I held back when Aoi broke your heart,” Yuna said, her lips twisting before continuing, “I could have had you right then on your bed… and then you might have moved on from her and felt better… But then again, you might not have made up and showed us how cute you are when you’re deeply in love.”

I couldn’t help blushing and Yuna’s nose twitched faintly and she giggled.

They both stopped short, hovering just on the edge, and Riko’s voice came out quieter than usual, the edge softened.

“We are still here, you know,” Riko said, eyes locked on mine. “We will always be a part of them.”

Yuna nodded, her smile trembling into place as if it took effort, her gaze bright and steady. “Even though I will not become a doctor like I dreamed of since I was a little girl, it’s fine,” she said, her voice warm with acceptance of their circumstances that made my chest hurt in a different way. “Because I get to be by your side once more for a short time…. nothing could make me happier.”

I nodded hard, rubbing at my wet eyes again, feeling my face damp, my nose running a little. It was a humiliating reaction that made me feel like an idiot, and yet I could not make myself care, because I was sitting here with them, an impossible dream come true, and the ginkgo leaves continued to gently wave.

“I love you all. I mean that,” I said with a tiny trembling smile.

My gaze slipped back toward Aoi. She was sitting farthest away in a way that was very intentional. It was as if she wanted to be a part of this moment, giving me room, time with Riko and Yuna in a way that she wouldn’t have in Baku’s dream world. Maybe as though she felt that she needed to protect herself from me, as if it only mattered that she sat there with us.

I stood up on unsteady legs, wiping my palms on my skirt once, then stepping forward slowly, my eyes never leaving hers. I could see the hesitation in her smile now, panic entering them.

“I know that I can touch you, even though I can’t touch them,” I said, my voice filled with certainty.

I reached out, extending both hands toward her, offering them openly, waiting for her to take them, wanting the contact myself even if it was only the touch of our fingertips against each other, wanting to hold something that looked so much like her in this world.

Aoi’s gaze dropped to my hands, then lifted back to my face, and she shook her head, a small refusal that made my chest tighten.

“Just enjoy the moment with them as long as you would like. I’m just here to…” she said, her voice soft. There was a tenderness in it that felt almost like a goodbye.

I smiled through the last of my tears, shaking my head too, because I was tired of being careful, because I was tired of doing everything the safe way, because this was mine even if it was only for a short time.

“No,” I said, the word coming out with a laugh that sounded like it was constructed from sobs, and then I stepped forward and threw my arms around her anyway, moving fast enough that she did not have time to dodge, feeling her body stiffen for a split second before she softened, and then I kissed her, not desperately, nor frantically, just a soft kiss, pressing my mouth to hers.

For an instant, the garden seemed to go very quiet, the ginkgo leaves still moving, the fox statues still watching, and then the spell snapped.

After a while I pulled back and gently flicked Aoi’s forehead.

“What?” Aoi asked, surprised by my gesture.

“Marco polo. I found you, Akuchi.” I smiled.

POOF

The girl in my arms changed.

Her eyes widened, fuzzy and confused, her cheeks flushing hard enough that the heat showed through, and her shoulders tensed under my hands like the kiss had hit her in a place she did not have any words for. Dark skin replaced Aoi’s slightly tanned complexion in a blink, long brown hair settling against her shoulders, and the hoodie she actually wore bunching against my fingers for a split second as her borrowed shape fell away.

She pulled back fast, breathing uneven, her gaze flicking away from mine.

A few steps from me Akuchi stood in her real form, her ears pricked high above her hair, one hand half raised between us and then stopping there like she did not know what to do with it, her tail thrashing restlessly. Her mouth was open just enough to show she had lost her composure, her orange skirt shifting in the breeze while she stared at me and refused to look at me at the same time.

I wiped at my cheek with the back of my hand, still smiling, my chest feeling lighter.

“Thank you for doing that for me, Akuchi,” I said, my voice a little wobbly, looking straight at her now. “It was really sweet of you.”

Riko and Yuna looked at each other, blinking, their expressions shifting fast, grief and joy collapsing into something ridiculous the way it always did with them.

Yuna’s cheeks puffed, her hands clenching into fists. “Kiss me away first, Sumire!” she yelled, standing up so fast her cushion scooted.

Riko’s eyes widened and then narrowed, her outrage flaring like a stricken match. “No, me!” she snapped, lunging forward like she was about to physically intercept my kiss.

They both moved at once, colliding in the middle of the deck with a messy tangle of limbs and skirts and righteous fury, their voices rising, their hands grabbing at each other, their balance wobbling.

One of them jerked mid-grapple, a leaf slipping loose from her forehead, and Riko disappeared, her body replaced with a smaller and cuter body.

POOF

Rui was suddenly there in the tangle, smaller, tighter, her chocolate-brown eyes wide with anger and frustration as she lurched forward with her hands closing on the fabric of Yuna’s uniform.

Yuna squeaked, twisting, her own leaf falling off with the motion as her head snapped toward Rui, and for a heartbeat she froze like she could feel the spell failing.

POOF

Ume popped back too, her black-to-purple twintails bouncing, her grin flashing with her cute fangies for an instant as she flailed to keep her balance, her chest pressing forward as she caught herself, still clinging to Rui’s.

They did not stop fighting.

Rui snarled and scrambled, trying to yank Ume down by her arm, and Ume squealed and laughed back, shoving Rui’s shoulder and trying to climb over her, their hands still tangled, their feet still skidding on the deck, the ginkgo leaves still waving overhead.

“RuiRui!” Ume yelped, trying to pry Rui’s fingers off her while simultaneously clinging to Rui’s hair. “I was overdue for a kiss from Sumire!”

“She’s mine!” Rui shrieked back, rolling her shoulder and trying to flip Ume the way she had flipped Akuchi earlier, her face red, her eyes weirdly wild. “You think you’re so cute! Do you think that boobs are all that matter?”

“Don’t be so possessive. We’re sharing her!” Ume protested, kicking Rui’s feet from under her and catching her, the ribbons in her hair bouncing. “You do not get to claim exclusivity!”

Rui made a noise like a furious kettle, grabbing at Ume’s dress and leaning herself back to throw her. Ume allowed herself to be tossed and flipped calmly, landing on her feet, giggling. She rushed forward with her fingers extended and tugged Rui off balance to flop onto her back and tickled her.

Rui shrieked and laughed, shoving Ume’s hands away, their fight devolving into a tickle war.

I stood there watching, my cheeks warming, my mouth stuck in an amused smile that would not go away, feeling the lingering softness of that kiss with Akuchi, even though it wasn’t a tongue kiss, while Rui and Ume continued tickling each other like two children fighting over the last sweets on the table.

Akuchi’s laughter seemed to slip through the garden like wind through leaves.

I exhaled slowly, blinking up at the ginkgo trees, letting myself feel the ache and the warmth together. I worried that my loss and grief might break me this time but life moved on.

But there were other things on my mind. Where am I going in my life? Always doing what I’m told to do by Natalia-sama and Rui, probably. 

That would always be a big part of what I would be doing whatever I did, that didn’t mean that I couldn’t get other things figured out… namely figuring out who I was.