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Miko paces restlessly as she waits, glancing out the window every so often to track the progress of the sun as it sinks towards the horizon.
Ei had promised to arrive early enough to let Miko help her dress as one of the shrine maidens before the start of the festival, but that time is fast approaching with no sign of the elder fox. It’s not like Ei to be late, so Miko is a little worried — has something important come up that’s going to ruin their plans? Something so urgent that she couldn’t even stop by to let Miko know?
…Even that seems unlike her. Surely she would have sent a message by shiki, at least?
But no such message has arrived, and she watches as the light continues to fade.
Miko sighs and sits down on her futon, sending a despondent look at the spare uniform she’d acquired for tonight and laid out on her desk. Getting Ei’s sizes had required taking them herself, since Ei hadn’t actually known, but once she’d had them the Lady Saiguu had been almost suspiciously accommodating about having a uniform quickly tailored to match.
Just as Miko is starting to conclude that it had all been a waste of time, a familiar overly-loud knock rings out on her door. She trips over her stupid traitorous human feet as she tries to jump up to open it, only barely keeping herself upright by grabbing onto the back of her desk chair… which itself proceeds to tip over from the added weight, resulting in Miko sprawling across the ground.
“Miko? Are you okay?” Ei’s voice calls, concern clear despite the slight monotone her voice usually carries. “I’m coming in!”
Miko doesn’t even have time to try to stand up again before Ei has thrown the door open and rushed inside.
“I’m fine,” Miko mumbles, hoping she isn’t blushing as hard as it feels like she is. “I just tripped.”
It’s hideously embarrassing to admit, especially to Ei, but it would be even more embarrassing to have Ei think she had managed to genuinely injure herself in her own bedroom.
“You’re sure?” Ei asks, half-lifting Miko off of the ground. “You didn’t sprain an ankle or cut yourself? You don’t have a concussion?”
Miko weakly tries to push Ei away, all too conscious of how close the god’s face is as Ei attempts to inspect her for injuries she may be hiding.
“I’m fine,” Miko repeats. “We need to get you ready for the festival, though, unless you want to be late.”
Ei follows Miko’s gaze to the desk and the uniform sitting innocently on top of it.
“The idea of dressing as a miko feels… strange,” Ei admits softly. “But it’s better than being recognized…”
“Trust me, I’m not any more fond of the uniform than you are,” Miko grumbles. “It’s so… restrictive.”
If Miko had her way, the dress code around here would be significantly looser… and so would her clothing. Unfortunately, the Saiguu is rather strict about that kind of thing.
“That’s not quite what I meant,” Ei laughs. “I like the uniform a lot, actually… I’m just not sure if it’s terribly appropriate for me to wear it.”
Miko rolls her eyes. Of course Ei’s concern would be something silly like that.
“The Lady Saiguu arranged for that uniform personally,” Miko says flatly. “If she thinks it’s fine, I doubt anyone would dare complain, even if they realized who you were… which they won’t. Do you have any idea how invisible we shrine maidens tend to be at these?”
Miko would honestly be almost insulted by how little attention people have paid to her at shrine festivals since she became a shrine maiden if it weren’t for how little interest she has in being gawked at by a bunch of stinky humans. As much as she enjoys some aspects of festivals (especially the food), she’s not all that big on the sounds and smells of the crowd attending them and tends to end up gravitating to the edges after picking up whatever she wants from the stalls.
“I don’t,” Ei admits. “The only festivals I usually attend are youkai festivals, so…”
Miko nods in understanding. Human shrine maidens never attend youkai festivals, and when youkai shrine maidens attend they never wear their uniforms. Being a shrine maiden for Narukami Gongen is not exactly a status symbol in the youkai world… though kitsune shrine maidens have a certain reputation that others don’t, given how much they’ve warped the role in their image. Still, youkai festivals are a time to showcase the pride of youkai, not the appearance of subservience to a god who favors humans.
“Well, you shouldn’t have to worry about anyone looking too hard at you,” Miko says. “You’ll want to hide most of your tails, though. A fox with that many would still stand out.”
Ei nods, and in the blink of an eye eight of her fluffy tails disappear. Miko mourns the loss — snuggling up with Ei’s tails has become one of her favorite pastimes lately, especially in her small fox form where she can be completely wrapped up in them. Still, it’s necessary for tonight.
“As you saw, the uniform is there,” Miko says, gesturing vaguely at the bundle on the desk. “I’ll step out so you can change, then I’ll do your hair.”
“You’re not going to help me with the uniform?” Ei asks.
Miko, who had already been on her way towards the door, finds herself tripping over her feet again at the question. This time, though, Ei catches her.
“Still adapting to the legs?” Ei asks sympathetically. “It was a pain for me at first, too.”
“Yes,” Miko says. It’s part-true, after all, even if the primary reason for her clumsiness lately has been Ei herself. “Why would you think I was going to help you change, though? Can’t you do that yourself?”
If Miko has to help Ei change her clothes, she might actually die of embarrassment. It’s bad enough watching from afar as Ei trains in nothing but hakama and sarashi — if she were up close when Ei was wearing less her heart would definitely give out.
“I’ve never worn anything quite like it,” Ei says, prodding the bundle of cloth with her finger. “Is there some kind of trick to it?”
“No tricks,” Miko says. “How about you try to put it on, and if you have trouble you can call me in?”
She isn’t sure whether she hopes Ei will have trouble or not. Yes, she would die, but it would be a very, very good death.
“That sounds reasonable,” Ei agrees. “Very well.”
Miko manages a smile, then steps out the door. She closes it, takes a deep breath, and then leans back against the wall next to the doorway. Her head makes a satisfying thump as she tilts it back.
“She is going to be the death of me,” Miko murmurs to herself, eyes slipping shut.
“I can tell,” the Lady Saiguu’s unwelcome voice interjects. “She’s got you lurking outside of your own room moping like a lovesick puddle. When’s the wedding? Or maybe I should expect a baby first? I hope you brats are using protection.”
Miko uses both hands to make rude gestures in the direction the voice came from without opening her eyes.
“Ei and I are not in such a relationship, Lady Saiguu,” Miko grits out. “And even if we were, I can’t see how it would be any of your business.”
Her mentor really is the most infuriating person she’s ever met. She wishes Urakusai had mentioned what an asshole the Lady Saiguu was in his stories — then Miko would have chosen a different profession rather than seek to follow in the legendary fox’s footsteps.
…Of course, if that had happened she probably never would have met Ei, so… Maybe it’s all worked out for the best after all.
The Lady Saiguu still deserves to stub her toe on every piece of furniture she walks near for the rest of her life, though.
“I can hear the ‘yet’ there,” the Lady Saiguu says. “Have you idiots really not confessed to each other?”
“There is nothing to confess,” Miko says flatly.
They both know it’s a lie, but appearances must be kept up.
“Whatever you say,” the Lady Saiguu says. “I suppose you won’t be putting more effort into your flower arrangement class, then?”
“…Why would I put more effort into that?” Miko asks, opening her eyes so that she can fix the Lady Saiguu with a confused stare.
“Well, that dense little shadow is a master of ikebana… somehow,” the Lady Saiguu says, shrugging. “It might not be a bad way to get your feelings across…”
“Irrelevant, since I have no intention of confessing feelings that don’t exist to her,” Miko says stiffly.
…She’s definitely going to be paying more attention in her ikebana lessons from now on. If she can get her feelings across without having to say it, that would make things so much easier.
The Lady Saiguu hums doubtfully, raising an eyebrow. Miko just glares.
“Miko?” Ei’s voice calls. “I think I’ve got it, but can you come make sure?”
The excuse to escape from the Lady Saiguu is extremely welcome, though the amused look the older fox has at the way Miko knows her ears had perked up is very much not.
“I’ll be right there!” Miko answers immediately.
She makes a shooing motion at the Lady Saiguu, then darts back inside her room.
“Is this right?” Ei asks, turning slowly in a circle so that Miko can examine her.
“Yes,” Miko says, mouth far too dry. “You got it.”
She suddenly finds herself understanding why Ei might like the uniform. The ancient fox’s usual kimono obscures her breasts far too much, clearly, given the sight now on display for Miko’s eyes…
“…Shrine maiden uniforms are pretty good,” Miko mumbles.
“Hm?” Ei asks. “Did you say something else just now?”
“No, no,” Miko says, waving her hands. “Here, sit down and I’ll do your hair.”
Ei obeys her and sits at the desk chair. Miko steps up behind her, reaches out, and pauses.
…She’s never touched Ei’s hair before, and something about the act feels almost frighteningly intimate to her. The hair of a god or priestess is a sacred thing — does she really have the right to touch that of Lightning’s Shadow?
“Miko?” Ei asks. “Is everything okay?”
“I was just trying to decide the style to use,” Miko replies automatically. “I’ll get started now.”
She does her best to calm her emotions as she lifts Ei’s heavy braid and carefully begins to undo it.
Ei’s hair is the softest thing Miko has ever touched. She finds herself almost addicted to the feeling of running her fingers through it as she ensures that there are no knots left behind.
“I’m going to remove your hair ornament too, okay?” Miko says. “I’ve got a different one for you to use today.”
“Okay,” Ei agrees, voice oddly placid.
Miko takes Ei’s ornament and secures it in a desk drawer, from which she draws its replacement. She couldn’t help but select one that uses the same kind of flower as Ei’s usual ornament, but that shouldn’t be suspicious even if anyone notices it — it’s a popular flower for decorations in general, given it’s one clearly favored by Inazuma’s beloved Raiden Shogun.
She carefully bundles Ei’s hair up into a bun — if she goes more slowly than she strictly has to then, well… that’s Ei’s fault for having such soft hair, obviously. Miko wouldn’t be enjoying this so much if it didn’t feel so nice.
When the bun is in place, Miko glances down and finds her gaze arrested by the nape of Ei’s neck.
She’d never given much thought to such things in the past, but now…
Miko shivers and resists the urge to press a kiss to it. It’s harder to hold back than she’d expected, but she manages by redirecting her attention to securing the bun and attaching the hair ornament she’d selected.
“Almost done,” Miko murmurs, moving around in front of Ei. She eyes her work critically, making sure nothing is out of place, then affixes a pair of small hairclips to keep Ei’s hair out of her eyes.
“There we go,” Miko says, grabbing her hand mirror from the desk and holding it up so that Ei can see her reflection.
“…I barely recognize myself,” Ei murmurs.
“That’s the point,” Miko says.
…Miko, of course, would still recognize Ei on sight… and she thinks this is a very, very good look for the older fox. She hopes she’ll be able to convince Ei to go to more festivals with her like this in the future, because it would be a tragedy if she only got to see Ei looking like this one time.
Her eyes dip almost involuntarily to the obvious swell of Ei’s breasts, and she swallows nervously.
…A real tragedy. Yes.
“Shall we get going?” Ei asks. “I think the festival has probably begun by now.”
“It definitely has,” Miko agrees. A thought strikes her, and she frowns. “…Is it proper for you to join this late? Are we going to get cursed or something?”
“Hm?” Ei asks, blinking. “Cursed?”
“Well, the Lady Saiguu was going on about the responsibilities gods have for festivals during lessons the other day,” Miko says, waving her hand vaguely. “Aren’t gods who are outside of the shrine supposed to return to it during the yoimiya and already be present before the main festival begins? She called it ‘a sacred liminal space, a time in which gods and mortals come together’ or something ridiculously flowery like that. A whole bunch of kami always turn up for it though, and so does Narukami Gongen… So is this bad luck since you didn’t?”
“…My role is a little different than that,” Ei says softly. “I have no divine position at human festivals, so there’s no harm in me joining late. I only return for the yoimiya of youkai festivals, where Makoto doesn’t join me — our duties are divided, her to the humans and I to the youkai.”
“Right, that makes sense,” Miko mumbles.
‘Makoto?’ That must be Narukami Gongen’s name, then.
…‘Ei’ is a much better name, Miko thinks. ‘Makoto’ sounds far too stuffy for her tastes — she bets Ei’s sister is a real bore, and not nearly as attractive.
“Let’s go, then,” Miko says, smiling.
Ei smiles back at her as she rises to her feet, and before Miko knows what’s happening she finds the elder fox’s arms wrapped around one of her own, which is now trapped in an impossibly soft spot. She lets out a strangled noise, and Ei squeezes her arm.
“Ei?” Miko asks, doing her best to keep up her smile and prevent her voice from shaking. “Is there a reason you’re…?”
“Is this not the appropriate behavior with one who invited you to a festival?” Ei asks with an infuriating level of genuine-sounding innocence in her voice. “It’s what they always do in books I’ve read.”
Miko’s smile twitches.
“I… I suppose it might be,” she admits. “I’ve never done this before.”
Part of her wants to tell Ei that it’s only appropriate when the festival trip is intended as a date, but the rest of her tells her to shut up and enjoy it.
That part wins out, despite her dread at what the Lady Saiguu might say if she sees them.
They head outside to the field that’s been set up for the festival, Ei pressed far more closely against Miko’s side than she thinks is probably strictly appropriate. They get a few looks from other shrine maidens as they go, likely wondering who Ei is… or perhaps why Miko, of all people, appears to be on a date.
Soon enough they hear the indistinct chattering of a crowd, and Miko’s nose can pick out the scent of countless treats being sold.
“It smells good,” Ei comments, a wistful note in her voice.
“It does,” Miko agrees. “I’ll treat you to anything you’d like.”
…It’s an impulsive offer, and not one Miko would have made if her mouth hadn’t been moving faster than her brain, but now it’s out there.
She just hopes her savings can cover it. She doesn’t tend to spend much of what she earns, so she’ll probably be okay, but…
She has seen how many sweets Ei can eat. The odds of ending up broke tonight are nonzero.
“Are you sure?” Ei asks.
“I wouldn’t have offered if I weren’t,” Miko lies, smiling brightly at her.
Like hell she’ll back down now. What does Ei think she is, some kind of coward? Her stupid gay mouth made the offer, and she’ll honor it.
“Thank you, then!” Ei says, her return smile almost blinding.
And all of a sudden Miko doesn’t regret the offer at all. This side of Ei — the obvious happiness, the open emotion — isn’t one she gets to see often, even with the unusual level of privilege that the god has allowed her. She wonders if it’s because, just for tonight, Ei is setting aside her ‘role’ to be nothing more than a shrine maiden attending a festival with her friend.
…If that’s the case, then… Miko will make sure she enjoys it as much as possible.
“What would you like to look at first?” Miko asks as they merge with the crowd. “Masks, snacks, goldfish scooping…?”
“I would prefer if we avoided that last one,” Ei mumbles. “I’ve always thought it’s a little… cruel. Goldfish are such smart and social little creatures, and I never hear stories of them being treated in accordance with that… Makoto enjoys it, but I’ve never been able to see the fun.”
“Goldfish are smart?” Miko asks blankly.
She had thought fish in general were quite stupid, frankly. She’d never thought goldfish of all things were likely to be intelligent.
“Extremely!” Ei answers immediately, the most animated expression on her face that Miko has ever seen as she gestures wildly with one hand. “They’re very playful, they can recognize faces and even emotions, they can learn tricks, they have quite good memories… Seeing them reduced to entertainment without regard to their well-being doesn’t sit right with me, and neither does keeping them in tiny little bowls. It’s just wrong — if someone is going to keep goldfish, they should have a large enough enclosure for them to swim around and have fun, and they should make sure to keep more than one so they can play together.”
…Miko has never heard Ei sound as passionate about anything as she does about goldfish welfare. It’s adorable, and Miko resolves to treat any goldfish she encounters in the future with the highest of respect for giving her the chance to see this level of cuteness.
“You must like them a lot,” Miko says. “Have you kept any?”
She thinks the answer is almost certainly ‘yes’ given how much Ei seems to know about them, but for all she knows that knowledge could have been acquired in some other way.
“I love animals in general,” Ei says, a soft smile on her face as she gazes up at the sky. “Especially small ones. Goldfish, birds, cats… I’ve never gotten along with dogs all that well for… well, obvious reasons. Makoto always keeps some around though, they’re her favorites. You’re right though, I do have some goldfish — they’re my only pets at the moment. I’ve got a secret little home I built in the mountains, and it contains a pool for them to live in. I’ll take you there sometime and introduce you — we can play fetch with them together!”
“That could be fun,” Miko agrees, though she’s really not sure what would be enjoyable about playing fetch with fish… but the cute expressions of delight she suspects Ei would be making the whole time would make it worth it. “Something else for now, though…”
She notices Ei’s gaze fixed on a stall, and huffs out a laugh when she sees that they’re selling candy apples — of course those would catch Ei’s attention.
“I’ll be right back,” Miko says, disentangling her arm from Ei’s. “Wait here, okay?”
Ei nods eagerly, not questioning the request, and Miko smiles at her before making her way over to the stall.
Miko takes a moment to breathe deeply and compose herself as she waits in the small line that’s formed. She needed a moment away from Ei to remind herself that this isn’t a date, because she can feel herself getting too caught up in the moment more and more with every cute thing Ei has been doing. It’s dangerous, and if she’s not careful she might end up doing something that can’t be taken back.
“And for you, miss?” she hears.
She blinks and focuses on the vendor.
“One candy apple, please,” Miko says, hoping her voice is steady.
Money changes hands, and Miko walks away two thousand Mora poorer and one candy apple richer.
“Here you go,” Miko says, offering the treat to Ei.
…Ei, for some reason, reaches up to brush a few strands of hair back as she closes her eyes and leans forward with her mouth open rather than doing the sensible thing and just taking the stick. Miko nearly drops it as she fumbles to change the angle so that Ei can take a bite.
“I-Is it good?” Miko stammers.
“Very,” Ei says, eyes fluttering back open as she smiles at Miko. “Thank you for buying it for me.”
“You’re welcome,” Miko mumbles, glancing away to try to hide how red she knows her cheeks are. “Y-You do realize that if you hold it, we can walk while you eat, right?”
“Oh, that’s a good point,” Ei says thoughtfully. “Is there anything you want to see?”
Miko’s attempt to answer is derailed when Ei’s hand brushes against hers as the older fox takes the candy apple.
“Miko?” Ei prompts through a mouthful of apple.
“I’d like to find someone selling shaved ice,” Miko blurts. “It’s a little hot, don’t you think?”
“Um, sure,” Ei says, blinking.
Before she can second-guess herself, Miko grabs Ei’s hand and sets off, glancing around for a shaved ice vendor.
“It’s not quite as lively as a youkai festival,” Ei muses.
“Well, it’s only just started,” Miko says. “I’m sure there will be plenty of time for the humans to get all drunk and rowdy soon enough.”
“Perhaps so,” Ei laughs. “But even then…”
“It wouldn’t be the same,” Miko agrees.
Youkai festivals have a vibrancy to them that human festivals just can’t match. The sheer variety of types of youkai that gather and make merry produces an atmosphere like no other.
“It looks like they’re selling shaved ice over there,” Ei says, nodding at a stall run by an elderly woman.
Miko beelines for it, dragging Ei behind her. There’s no line right now, probably because it’s actually a rather cool night.
“One large strawberry shaved ice,” Miko half-demands, thrusting a handful of Mora at the vendor.
The old woman smiles at her as she swiftly prepares the treat.
“Enjoy your date, dears,” she says as she hands Miko her shaved ice.
Miko manages to prevent her eye from twitching and, not trusting her voice, turns and hurries away. She’s glad Ei has been so accommodating with being dragged around — if she weren’t letting Miko pull her, she wouldn’t be moving at all.
Miko releases Ei’s hand only once they’re well away from the old busybody, and she immediately takes an angry bite of her shaved ice.
At least it’s good.
“What do humans usually do at their festivals, anyway?” Ei asks, eyes scanning the festival. “I don’t see anything like akitsu haneasobi around.”
“Oh, there are a variety of festival games,” Miko says vaguely. “Nothing as exciting as ours, though.”
…Damned if she knows what they are, though. She’s never had any interest in them — she thinks she’s seen one with balloons?
“Oh, there’s an archery booth over there…” Ei murmurs. “Do you mind if I try my hand?”
“Of course not,” Miko says. “If you’d like to cheat them out of a few prizes, feel free.”
“I won’t cheat, Miko,” Ei says, an offended note in her voice.
“I think over a thousand years of experience with a bow is cheating at a human festival,” Miko says, shrugging.
“You give them too little credit,” Ei denies. “It’s true that few humans can hope to reach the level of those of us who have centuries to hone our abilities, but it does happen — and not just for Vision-holders, either.”
Miko hums doubtfully.
She’s willing to believe that some humans can surpass the pitiful average of their kind, certainly, but to suggest that a human archer could ever rival what Ei is capable of is absurd. She’s sure it will never happen, even among the ‘heroes’ who receive training from the Yougou Tengu.
“You’ll see someday,” Ei says confidently. “Maybe not tonight, maybe not in a decade, maybe not in a hundred years… but eventually a human archer will be born here in Inazuma who can match me shot for shot.”
“Why are you so sure?” Miko asks.
Ei is expressing a bizarre level of confidence when considering the unlikely nature of her claim. Has she seen a glimpse of the future or something?
“Because I’ve been watching them,” Ei says, gesturing out at the crowd. “They may not be my people, not like the youkai are… but I still love them, Miko. I can see their potential.”
“…You don’t even specialize in bows,” Miko grumbles, unable to think of a better response.
Ei throws her head back and laughs.
“I don’t,” she agrees. “And I do think it much less likely I’ll ever meet a human who could hope to stand against me with a blade. But with a bow… I do believe it to be possible, and I truly hope to see it.”
Miko huffs as they arrive at the stall Ei had seen, and stands back while Ei exchanges greetings with the man running the stall and picks up the bow for challengers.
“I get three shots, hm…” Ei murmurs, eyes examining the targets. “Easy enough.”
Miko stares as Ei loads three arrows into her bow at once.
“Ah, dear customer… I can’t recommend attempting that,” the stallkeeper cautions gently. “I know there are legends about master archers performing such feats, but…”
“Thank you for your concern,” Ei says, a gentle smile on her face. “But I’ll be fine.”
She looses the string, and three arrows find their homes right in the center of three targets.
Miko looks back and forth between Ei and the targets, mouth a thin line.
A human? Match that display?
As if. If she ever witnesses something like that, she’ll personally treat them to whatever sort of meal they’d like.
“…Amazing,” the stallkeeper breathes. “A perfect score… Please, take your pick of the prizes, you’ve certainly earned it.”
“Thank you,” Ei says, bowing shallowly. “Miko, which one would you like?”
“Me?” Miko asks.
“Yes, you,” Ei laughs. “You didn’t think I was doing this because I wanted one of the prizes, did you?”
Miko frowns, but moves closer to examine the prizes.
“…That one,” she finally decides, pointing at a large plush goldfish.
It’s not the kind of thing she’d normally be interested in, but after Ei’s little lecture earlier she’s finding it cuter than she would have expected. It will, if nothing else, be a perfect memento of tonight.
Ei beams at Miko as she accepts the plush from the stallkeeper and hands it to her.
Miko stares down into its bulbous eyes, then sighs and gives it a hug.
…It’s soft.
“Thank you,” Miko murmurs.
“What are you going to name her?” Ei asks.
“…What?” Miko asks blankly.
“Your goldfish,” Ei says, gesturing at the plush.
Miko stares down at it again.
She’s supposed to name it?
…And Ei has decided it’s a girl, apparently.
She mentally flails for a name suitable for a plush goldfish. She’s never owned a plush in her life — she has no experience with this.
A loud bang startles her, and she finds herself instinctively hugging the goldfish for comfort as she hunches over.
“Oh, the fireworks are starting,” Ei murmurs, gazing up at the sky. “I wonder who’s doing them tonight? A few families have been trading the duty, I heard…”
“Well, it’s definitely not the Naganohara,” Miko mumbles, flinching at the continued booming of fireworks. “They make fireworks that don’t cause panic in youkai…”
She wishes that the Naganohara handled every festival, honestly, and she’s been advocating for it to the Lady Saiguu ever since she had learned about the near-miracle the family had pulled off.
‘Fireworks should be for everyone!’ the young family head had told her when Miko had asked about why the fireworks at that festival hadn’t caused her pain. ‘Humans, gods, youkai… everyone deserves to enjoy them. Sure, they might have been a tool that we humans used to protect ourselves from you once, but… I’d rather believe we can use them to befriend each other and make precious memories, wouldn’t you? I just wish everyone would use the formula we published… I know it’s expensive, but it’s worth it!’
The young woman’s bright smile and almost ridiculous level of optimism about what the relationship between humans and youkai could become had stirred even Miko’s heart, but the Lady Saiguu had been unmoved, claiming that it would be unfair to the other families that have honed their fireworks skills for so long if the shrine were to exclusively contract with any of them. So even though the Naganohara have the oldest lineage of any of those families, dating back over six hundred years… even though the Naganohara are the only ones who take the extra time and expense to ensure their fireworks are safe for youkai…
Miko is broken out of her frustrated thoughts by the feeling of Ei’s arm wrapping around her shoulders.
“I had almost forgotten how rough fireworks can be,” Ei murmurs. “I’m sorry.”
Miko shrugs. Ei is so old and powerful that she’d be more surprised if ordinary fireworks could threaten her, really, so it might be stranger if she hadn’t forgotten… and it was the Lady Saiguu who hired whichever idiot made tonight’s fireworks, not Ei.
“…Kaho,” Miko mumbles, her voice barely audible over the sound of the fireworks.
“…What?” Ei asks.
“My goldfish,” Miko says. “Her name is Kaho.”
‘Kaho’ written like ‘fireworks’ — ‘Kaho’ like the young woman who made Miko wonder, even if only for a moment, if it might really be possible for humans and youkai to overcome their differences and live together as one people.
“It’s a good name,” Ei says, smiling down at her.
“It is,” Miko agrees quietly.
…the Lady Saiguu and the way she tries to foster respect between the human and youkai shrine maidens despite their many differences, Ei and her belief that a human will one day rival her marksmanship, Naganohara Kaho and her talk of friendship between humans and youkai…
Miko sighs and tightens her arms around goldfish-Kaho.
She supposes she might as well try paying a little more attention to people, if so many impressive figures seem to think it’s worthwhile. It could be good for a few laughs, if nothing else.
Right now, though… Right now, she’s got a festival to enjoy, and the best company in the world to enjoy it with.
As she hugs Kaho to her chest with one hand and grabs Ei’s hand with the other to drag her back into the crowd in search of more activities…
Miko thinks maybe she might like human festivals, after all.