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Yuyuko slides the door to the practice room at Rinmeikan open. On position zero is Tamao, facing the mirror wall with her back to Yuyuko. Her concentrated expression gives way to a more relaxed one as she opens her eyes, staring at Yuyuko.
Tamao-senpai, Yuyuko greets as she digs her hands into her sweater. It hasn’t even been a full day since she and Rui fought. She tells Tamao this.
Tamao glides across the practice room. Almost ethereal, untouchable. Yuyuko furrows her brow. Tamao’s aura of sanctification bothers her.
I’m glad, Tamao says. I hate seeing my two juniors fighting.
Yuyuko bites her tongue. She finds herself doing that around Tamao in recent weeks. She won, if you were wondering, Yuyuko relays.
Tamao simply hums in response. Yuyuko sees her shoulders tense. Yuyuko lets out a small sigh once she sees Tamao’s veneer of calm crack. Yuyuko calls her out. Aren’t you proud of your kouhai, Yuyuko asks.
Tamao continues dancing. Her feet were on the floor, step after step. She was no longer gliding. I am, she says sincerely. I’m amazed and so proud of how she’s grown.
Even if she’s outgrown you? Yuyuko’s question makes Tamao pause, rolling her neck. Even if she comes to challenge you?
She doesn’t respond to Yuyuko’s question. Yuyuko hadn’t expected her to. I think I’m done for the day, Tamao says instead.
The pressure in the room lifts. Yuyuko sighs, walking beside Tamao as they make small talk back to the dorms.
“That doctor eludes me once more.” Death sighed, swinging her feet at the roof of her temple. “She delays the inevitable.”
“Doesn’t everyone try to stave off death?” A robed figure walked up to the temple, every step on the gravel path punctuated with a crunch. “She’s done a lot for many people all over the continent and beyond. Even if she does go against you, I can respect her determination.”
“You would say that, Yuyuko.” Death hummed, jumping off the roof. She landed daintily in front of the other girl. “What brings you here, my disciple?”
“Ugh, I thought I told you not to call me that, Tamao.” Yuyuko rolled her eyes. “‘Disciple’ implies a lot of things that are inaccurate about our current relationship.”
“True.” Tamao laughs. It was more like a powerful bell in a tower than a small handbell designed to call on a handmaiden. A supernova instead of twinkling lights in the sky. It concerned Yuyuko just as much as it energized her. Tamao is a force to be reckoned with, an avatar and personification of the only constant in life. Yuyuko can’t find it in herself to be intimidated by Death, though.
“She’s meeting up with that redhead on the ship.” Yuyuko grabbed her pen from her pocket, doodling a small caricature of a girl with a side bun, swathed in pirate clothes. “Something about wanting to spread that medicine out to the Isles.”
“All the way out there, hm?” Tamao sighed, summoning her tachi. Yuyuko always wondered why it wasn’t a scythe. “I suppose I should pay her a visit, then.”
Yuyuko’s eyes widened as she held up her hand. “Wait, don’t just—“ Tamao vanished, leaving her at the temple. “Stupid Death patron doesn’t even wait for me...” Yuyuko grumbled, drawing a sigil beneath her feet.
Tamao doesn’t join them for dinner, wanting to get a better grip on her character. Ichie is off doing who knows what. Dinner is a quiet affair, consisting of herself and Rui.
Was it always going to be up to us, Rui asks. Saving the performance department, I mean.
She’s side by side with Yuyuko, the two of them washing dishes. Rui still hasn’t answered her confession. Yuyuko wasn’t expecting her to. Still, the lack of distance between them makes her gulp. Rui’s been slightly skittish around her, but for the most part their dynamic has stayed the same. Yuyuko’s mind couldn’t help but race trying to think what that meant for them.
Yuyuko gives her a non-answer and scrubs harder against a stain on a plate. Regardless of whether it was or wasn’t originally, the burden of reviving the Performance Department and carrying the legacy is getting heavier by the day. Luckily, she and Rui can share the load.
I didn’t think we’d actually make it here, Rui admits. Yuyuko agrees, but doesn’t show it. The performance festival seemed so far away, Rui says.
Does that mean you never thought we’d save the department, Yuyuko asks. She refuses to make eye contact with Rui. If Rui never believed in going to the festival, that means she never thought they would draw students into the Performance Department. The lack of faith stings her.
Yuyuko could almost hear Rui thinking. Rui gives her a non-answer as well. I didn’t think we’d seriously consider the idea of the Performance Festival in the first place, she says. But Tamao started believing in it, and like the rest of the department, Rui was swept up in her current.
And look at where that got us, Yuyuko almost said. She took a sharp breath. She instead thanks Rui for everything that happened to their department.
Rui rolls her eyes in response. She believes Yuyuko is joking.
I’m serious, Yuyuko says as her voice softens against her will. Rui came up with the idea to go to the performance festival and Rui was the one who found Fumi. You did a lot to try and save the Performance Department, Yuyuko adds.
But Tamao-senpai, Rui says. It always comes back to Tamao.
Yuyuko bites the inside of her cheek. I said what I said, Rui, she says, staring at her pruney hands. I’m not discrediting how much Tamao’s done for us, but right now, with how hard she’s been working… she’s still coping with the loss of the department.
Aren’t we all, Rui shakes her head mirthlessly.
Yuyuko washes off the soap on the plate. The stain clings onto the plate, refusing to let go. She tells Rui this about Tamao and the Performance Department. Her stubborn refusal to accept it was once inspiring. Now, Yuyuko can’t quite see it in the same light seeing how Tamao’s burning herself on both ends.
Rui furrows her brow. We haven’t given up on the department either, she says.
Yuyuko shakes her head. Time is on her side, on Rui’s side. It isn’t on Tamao’s.
Yuyuko disliked hospitals. They stank with the stench of death and misery. If one wanted to find Akikaze Rui, though, they’d usually find her in one.
Yuyuko didn’t mind hospitals if Rui was in them. She was always spreading new medicines and saving lives. The overwhelming presence of death wasn’t suffocating her.
“Rui.” Yuyuko couldn’t help but smile at the doctor. “Glad to see you in good health.”
“Yuyuko.” Rui’s eyes pierced through her. Tamao was already there, staring at Rui and Yuyuko while Fumi stood in front of the two pirates. Rui pried her eyes away from Yuyuko to Tamao. “Death.”
“My, what a crowd we have here.” Tamao gave Rui a kind smile. “I hope I’m not intruding on anything.”
“As a matter of fact, you are.” Rui closed her eyes and turned away from Tamao. “Now, if you’ll excuse us—“
“Rui, you—” Tamao reached out for the brunette, only to find a pink barrier that electrified her. Tamao clutched her hand, glaring at it as if it was the barrier itself.
“I see hell has been treating you well.” Yuyuko sighed, running her hands through her hair.
“Very much so, yes.” Rui didn’t even spare her another glance. She was talking to Death’s apostle, not to Yuyuko. “Send the Devil my regards.”
“Hanayagi.” Tamao furrowed her brow.
Rui crossed her arms. “Now, unless you have any other business, I suggest you leave.”
Tamao sighs. “I can’t do that, not when you’re making my job obsolete—“
“It’s not like I’m making them immortal. I know I’m delaying the inevitable” Rui replied. She took a deep breath. “I want to see people experience the world and life their life to the fullest, like I did. I’m not keeping them from you. Besides,” Rui continued in a quieter tone. “I know you don’t like accepting innocents into your domain.”
Tamao stayed quiet. Yuyuko sighed, sharing a concerned glance with Fumi.
Fumi stares at Yuyuko. She’s lounging on the sofa, on her phone giving Aruru answers while the other blonde stares at a piece of paper. You don’t live here, she says.
Yuyuko shrugs in response. Aruru had texted her that she was feeling lonely while Fumi was at work with Tamao. Ichie dragged Rui off to who knows where, leaving Yuyuko lonely in the dorms as well. She tells Fumi that Aruru is having trouble with math homework.
Welcome home, Fumi-senpai, Aruru greets softly. She gives a small smile to the older blonde, and Yuyuko could faintly make out a silhouette of ears and a tail. She’s been in higher spirits since she talked to Misora, no longer moping around the apartment, but she’s still more solemn than she usually is.
I’m home, Fumi returns. She and Aruru make small talk about the day, about school, about work. Yuyuko nearly drifts off to sleep but a gentle shake that turned into a less gentle shake got her to pry one eye open.
Tell me what’s wrong Yuyuko, Fumi says with a hard glare at her underclassman.
Yuyuko buries herself into her jacket. She loves and appreciates Fumi, but hates how well she can read others. She wonders if it’s something she picked up at her old school.
Tell me what’s wrong or I call Rui, Fumi threatens, and Yuyuko caves. She opens both of her eyes, only seeing Fumi. She hears the microwave hum in the background, and she lets out a sigh.
Yuyuko rarely admits when she feels lonely, a trait she shares with the two blondes currently in the apartment with her. She never lingers on it, never lets it settle and never lets it get to her. She can’t be lonely anymore; she has the Performance Association, she has friends in Frontier, Seisho, and even Seigfeld.
Yet in the homiest place she can think of, she succumbs. Any attempts at a deep breath get cut short. She hears the patter of a set of footsteps running towards her. She shuts her eyes, feeling the sympathetic, kind faces of the other occupants in the apartment. Warmth wraps around her small frame as she hears the microwave sound off, the faintest smell of food and ponzu in the distance.
There’s really only one place to call this, but Yuyuko’s afraid saying it out loud would shatter this moment, so she doesn’t. She’s sure they know, though.
Death vanished, and Yuyuko murmured a small goodbye before teleporting herself a realm away. She can talk to Rui and the others later once the heat settles, but leaving Tamao alone right now isn’t an option.
Hell isn’t as fiery as it seems at first glance. It’s oddly traditional, vaguely reminiscent of feudal Japan but also modernized. Skyscrapers of glass and concrete streets mixed with traditional Japanese temples dedicated to deities of the underworld.
“Tamao-han, lovely to see you again.” Kaoruko smiled as the avatar of Death scowled at her.
“Leave her be.” Tamao demanded. “You have no right to—
“But I do.” Kaoruko laughed. “It was part of the deal. Until she stops walking down her path, you cannot touch her.”
“Kaoruko—“
“Tamao.” Yuyuko interrupted, placing her hand on Tamao’s shoulder. “It’s fine. Please, just let it go.”
Tamao sighed as Yuyuko’s hand fell out of the air, her patron disappearing once again. Yuyuko held back a groan as she summoned her pen, drawing another sigil beneath her feet.
Before she teleported away though, she caught a glimpse of Kaoruko looking solemnly at the place where Tamao disappeared.
Yuyuko immediately makes herself at home on the couch once she steps into Seisho’s common room. Nana’s in the kitchen and Kaoruko is scrolling through her phone in the chair off to the side. Yuyuko tells her that Rui says hi.
Kaoruko just laughs. She hates me, Kaoruko states, and Yuyuko doesn’t argue against her. Rui dislikes Kaoruko for many reasons, and Yuyuko’s burgeoning friendship with her doesn’t help. Still, Rui and Kaoruko have developed a strange sort of growth-centered rivalry.
Deep down though, she has a deep respect for you, Yuyuko says, and it catches Kaoruko off guard. Her face turns pink in a rare display of vulnerability, but her walls come up just as fast as they came down. If Yuyuko wasn’t paying attention, she would’ve missed it.
What brings you here anyways, Kaoruko asks and Yuyuko takes out a book. The cover’s black with fancy purple lettering etching the words ‘The Realm of the Dead’. Yuyuko tells her that she has to return it to Junna.
Kaoruko raises a questioning brow. Death isn’t Yuyuko’s role, they both know this. Yuyuko shrugs, giving some vague, noncommittal answer about wanting to know more about the roles of the girls. Kaoruko isn’t fooled.
Yuyuko’s sure that even if Kaoruko figured out her thoughts, she wouldn’t say anything. She’s aware of Kaoruko’s position as a rival to Tamao. Without Kaoruko’s constant egging, she’s sure Tamao would be a lot less motivated than she is now. Yuyuko doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
When Tamao inevitably picks her up from Seisho, she glares at Kaoruko as the other girl simply smirks in return. Yuyuko wonders if Kaoruko is somehow the cause of this whole mess.
Before her feet even touch the ground, screams of anger and anguish pierced the air. Shiori’s horse neighed at Yuyuko’s arrival, as if to alert it’s owner, but the blonde doesn’t hear it.
Yuyuko sighed, Death’s presence growing stronger as she entered the temple as quietly as she could.
“Bring her back, dammit!” Shiori shouted, angry tears running down her cheeks. Tamao’s spectre isn’t here, but she can sense what’s happening nonetheless. Perks of being connected to all of her temples, Yuyuko supposed. She wondered how she deals with the constant prayers of reviving the dead from people around the world all the time.
“You know she can’t do that, Shiori.” Yuyuko spoke up, making Shiori whip around, drying her eyes.
“Oh, Yuyuko, hi.” Shiori greeted, her voice shaking. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Shiori.” Yuyuko nodded in return, giving Shiori a small, sympathetic smile. “I didn’t expect to be here either.”
“So she’s here then?” Shiori glared at the temple itself. “She won’t face me.” Her question is more of a statement than anything.
Yuyuko replied nonetheless. “No, she won’t.”
“She can’t even respond to me?” Shiori clenched her fists, an old, neglected spear in one hand and a shiny new saber in the other. “I just want her to bring my sister back. Is that too much to ask for?”
“Death does not give judgement, rather she takes in souls already judged.” Yuyuko recited, exact words that were said to her before when she dared to ask that question. “I’m sorry.” She added, though Yuyuko knew it wouldn’t placate the younger Yumeoji’s rage.
Shiori didn’t respond. Yuyuko could see the gears turning behind her eyes, the rage being reigned in and controlled. Yuyuko has no doubt that she’ll ride on that anger later against Death because if there’s anything Yuyuko knew about the Yumeoji line, it’s that they are endlessly stubborn.
The Auguria Four (dubbed by Mei Fan and Lalafin on the basis of “it sounds like we’re a team of superheroes and it sounds cool”) meets up once a month to discuss Very Important Topics, like Shakespeare, rakugo, anime, and superheroes. It wasn’t normally a source of gossip, but with half of the members being put into the same revue and the other half being fidgety due to their own school conflicts, it was inevitable.
Junna hadn’t had much to report. Seisho was Seisho, and this wasn’t their first go around with increasingly personal revues. She was never one to gossip, and Yuyuko didn’t expect to hear more than that from her. She heard a sliver of spite directed towards Kaoruko though, as expected of a loss in the revues.
Lalafin’s situation is something Yuyuko’s already aware of due to how tangential Fumi and Rinmeikan had been in their personal affairs. Aruru still refused to come back, but Misora was more spirited than she’d ever been. Yuyuko mentions that Fumi’s been helping the redhead more often. It doesn’t come as a surprise to Lalafin. She says that she doesn’t like the tension, but the fact that families fight sometimes doesn’t hold an exception for Frontier.
Mei Fan, oblivious sweetheart she was, couldn’t exactly pinpoint the tension happening at Seigfeld. Shiori was Shiori, Yuyuko was aware of that much, and Yachiyo was a mystery as always. Mei Fan comments on their progress, noting how Akira’s fleshed out her role as the Celestial Goddess even more, amazed at how Akira could surpass her previous performance, and how diligent Michiru still was, even if seemed off for the past couple of days.
Yuyuko sighs, sharing recent events at Rinmeikan. Tamao’s tunnel vision, her and Rui’s revue, Ichie’s constant disappearances and Fumi’s own odd behavior. It’s a Rinmeikan Civil War, Yuyuko jokes, though the unsettling accuracy puts her on edge.
The others chime in with their two cents about Tamao’s decision. They disagree with her methods, but they can’t argue with the results. After all, the stage couldn’t care about something like morality. It consumes, wholly and beautifully and painfully. Much like Death, Yuyuko thinks. She wonders if that’s some sort of sign.
Yuyuko uncorked a vial of blood from her pocket and tipped a single drop in her palm before putting the cork back on. She squeezed her first, magic oozing out of her palm and under her skin, into her veins. She casted two spells in tandem: a spell to cloak her presence from Tamao and another one to teleport her to Rui.
Hell’s blessing won’t last forever, but it will last long enough for her to talk to Rui in privacy, which is more than what she can ask for. Rui’s not in a hospital for once, but a graveyard. She’s kneeling, placing a bouquet of flowers in a grave. Yuyuko stepped closer, the dark crimson rose, hyssop, purple hyacinth, sage, and violets bringing color to an otherwise unremarkable grave.
Yuyuko’s stomach dropped. The letters are faded from decades ago, but Yuyuko would recognize her own name anywhere.
“I saved— and still am saving— so many people thanks to you.” Rui said solemnly. “I just wish I could’ve saved you too.”
“There wasn’t any hope for me to begin with.” Yuyuko sighed, taking a seat next to Rui. “Even when I was young, I was a cursed child. I could see the ghosts of my ancestors. No one believed me, though. Blessed by Death from the beginning.”
“I’m so sorry, Yukko.” Rui wraps her arms around the smaller girl.
“That was a long time ago.” Yuyuko shook her head, though she leaned into Rui’s embrace. “Anyways, the point I’m trying to make is that my death isn’t your fault. And besides, I came back, didn’t I?”
“You had to make a deal with Death to do so.” Rui mumbled into Yuyuko’s hair.
“You know I’d pay any price to see you thrive.” Yuyuko sighed, relaxing her frame against Rui’s. “Besides, you and I both know Death hates herself more than anything.”
“I saw her burned in front of me, before she...” Rui trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut. “She stared at me, in the crowd, and even then she refused to let me worry. She refused to let me help. She tried to save me, and she paid the price for it.”
“She’s stubborn.” Yuyuko agreed, before palming off the vial of blood from her pocket into Rui’s. “But I think you and I are even more so.”
Rui’s eyes shot open, staring at the vial. “You don’t mean—“
—that Yuyuko, Tamao says, eyes furrowed. She goes on about how Yuyuko would make a great lead, and would be just as capable as any of the others for the role of the unknown lead.
Yuyuko shrugs. She’s made it clear from day one that as much as she loves the stage, there are some things she will never sacrifice for it. She paved the way for Rui to take the lead, and so she’s already casted herself as the lancer.
Tamao’s brow is still scrunched up, wanting to argue but without points to bring up. Yuyuko sighs, stretching. Yuyuko can relax with time on her side. There’s always the next Performance Festival, Yuyuko says nonchalantly, and it gets frayed composure in return.
That’s not a reason to slack off, Tamao says, and Yuyuko laughs at how Fumi-like it was. It doesn’t give the intimidating effect that their local drill sergeant has, and so Yuyuko brushes it off.
They’ve worked themselves to the bone for months now. And as much as Yuyuko hates to say it, but the department shutting down was good. Their performances, one after the other, had gotten Yuyuko more exhausted than she usually was. They don’t have a time limit anymore. Tamao imposes one anyway.
Yuyuko knows her relaxed behavior only gets on Tamao’s nerves more, but Tamao would never show that to her. She wonders if this is too cruel to Tamao, taunting her the way she does.
Tamao must dislike her. Not that Yuyuko cares anymore.
She does, she cares a lot.
—
It was one of the perks of being Tamao’s acolyte (Yuyuko really needed a better term for her relationship with Tamao) that practically every temple of hers served as temporary housing considering Yuyuko didn’t really have a permanent place to live. The closest thing she had was a guest bedroom specifically given to her by Tamao.
It still baffled her how Tamao has a whole mansion, the marble pillars and fountains in the garden more western than she expected from the other woman. Tamao always defied expectations, Yuyuko supposed.
Tamao entered through the door, handing it to Yuyuko. “You really should stop exerting your magic, Yuyuko.”
“Don’t worry about me.” Yuyuko waved her off. “Besides, you know I’m basically already dead.”
“That’s not the point.” Tamao’s tone hardened, and Yuyuko immediately sobered up. “I don’t want you to be here just as much as I do.”
“Wow, I’m hurt.” Yuyuko laughed, ignoring the pain in her chest.
“I wish you and Fumi and Ichie and Rui never associated with me.” Tamao shook her head, looking away from Yuyuko. “You all deserve to live happy, fulfilling lives.”
“How thoughtful of you.” Yuyuko couldn’t help but deadpan. “News flash: it’s inevitable we would’ve met up with you. You are Death, after all.”
“I wish I wasn’t.”
“As if you didn’t choose this for yourself.” Yuyuko raised a brow. “The previous Death would’ve found another person to take the mantle. You could even pass it off if you want.”
“And subject anyone else to this?” Tamao made a show of her powers, shades of ghosts silent and obedient under her command.
“It’s a curse for a reason.” Yuyuko shook her head. “You know I’d gladly take it from you. Rui would too.”
Tamao, stubborn as she is, shook her head. Yuyuko sighed, closing her eyes as the path ahead became clear.
Yuyuko asks Rui what she thinks of Tamao. She sings praises, as Yuyuko expected, but also faults. Yuyuko didn’t expect that.
Tamao is stubborn, for better or worse. Tamao’s kind and selfless, for better or worse. Tamao is a leader— their leader— for better or worse. With every good trait Rui presents comes the opposite extreme, and it catches Yuyuko off guard. She asks how Rui can say all of this.
I realized that when you love, you accept the good and the bad, Rui says. You can’t take the good and discard the rest because it’s all part of the same person you decided to love. Rui grives Yuyuko a small, awkward smile. You should know this better than anyone.
Yuyuko gulps and turns away. It’s easier to be honest on stage under the spotlight than it is in this moment. She does know, unfortunately.
Rui returns Yuyuko’s question. What do you think of Tamao-senpai?
It’s mostly an echo of the same things Rui said. Stupidly stubborn in the people and goals she believes, selfless to the point of exhausting herself, and directs Rinmeikan to greater heights and below their lowest nadir.
And suddenly Yuyuko is hit with a startling realization. One that Rui recognizes, and all Yuyuko can do is contemplate this new realization. It’s different— much different, but strikingly familiar.
I thought about what you told me a lot, Rui says with a small smile. And I want to try, but I wanted to make sure you accepted everything I am before I told you that.
Yuyuko smiles and nods, feeling lighter than she’s been in days.
“Are you sure this’ll help?” Rui asks, staring at the potion in hand before looking up to the sky. The sky was turning darker, yellows giving way to dark blues purples smeared across the skyline.
“At the very least, it’ll weaken the curse.” Yuyuko lifted the chalk from the stone grave, taking a moment to double check the rune before looking away from it. The name ‘Tamao Tomoe’ chiseled into the headstone was oddly uncomfortable to look at. “Now, are you ready?”
“If it’ll help Tamao.” Rui nodded, and Yuyuko can’t help but give her a soft smile. She shook her head, channeling Death’s magic. The wind stilled, and the grass surrounding the dead withered in seconds. Any animal in the area left, and the only sound around them was their own breathing. Yuyuko took a deep breath in, and stabbed her pen at the center of the circle, the magic thrumming as it called Tamao.
As soon as Tamao appeared, Rui chucked the potion at her feet, shattered glass pieces flying everywhere. Yuyuko quickly threw up a barrier for herself and Rui, watching as the red sigil became lavender, and then blindingly white. The shades eternally connected to Tamao screeched in pain and Yuyuko covered her ears. The screams sounds like Tamao, and hearing it pained her. She shut her eyes, shielding her face with her arm and waited until the glow died to open her eyes.
“Did it work...?” Rui mumbled, taking a step towards Tamao, who was know laying in a scorched circle.
“R-Rui? Yuyuko?” Tamao groaned, reaching out for Rui and trying to turn to Yuyuko before her hand fell and her eyes closed. Rui picked up Tamao’s wrist, letting out an audible sigh of relief once she located her pulse.
“She’s alive, just passed out.”
“Glad to know she’s alright.” Yuyuko let out a sigh of relief, making her way to Tamao’s form. She grabbed Tamao’s hand and channeled her magic to the other woman. She could still feel traces of death, but she was living. Yuyuko let herself relax. “It didn’t work completely. I guess the curse had some sort of failsafe to keep it form leaving entirely, but we partially made her human again.”
“So, what now?” Rui took off her doctor’s robes, spreading it out on the ground and moving Tamao on top of it.
“Not sure.” Yuyuko could feel the aftereffects of the spell, the separated pieces of Death clinging onto herself and Rui. “The spell’s pretty much irreversible. Unless she’s willing to kill us to get her full power back, which I doubt.”
“And I won’t… kill anyone, right?” Rui furrowed her brow, the purple shades turning green at her touch. “I’m not sure how Death’s magic works.”
“You can control souls, but you can’t control death itself.” Yuyuko shakes her head. “Death happens regardless of what its avatar does. You won’t be able to kill someone unless you, y’know, stab them or something.”
Rui grimaced, pulsing her magic outward into the air. A rough approximation of a child appeared, tilting its head before almost bouncing up and down in excitement, climbing on Rui’s back. “Y-Yukko…?”
“Each shade is a soul that willingly devotes themselves to Death. I think they’re just as relieved as we are that Tamao won’t be alone anymore.” Yuyuko smiled at the green-tinted shade, sending out a small pulse of magic. The shade nodded, hopping off Rui’s back and giving the two a wave before dissipating.
“Do you…” Rui looked back to Tamao, furrowing her brow. “Do you think she’ll hate us?”
“I’m not sure.” Yuyuko responded truthfully. “At the very least, we eased her burden.”
“That’s good enough for me.” Rui smiled, brushing Tamao’s hair out of her eyes. The sun had long since set at this point, the cemetery illuminated by the light of the full moon and the constellations in the sky. “I hope she’ll let herself be happy.”
Yuyuko held Tamao’s hand, savoring it’s warmth as long as she could while Rui gave her a small peck on the forehead. “Me too.”