Work Text:
Nobody could possibly blame Asirpa, of course, for pulling that arrow on Ogata. He killed her dad! He almost killed Sugimoto. ž
If it were them, they'd do it, too! Don't worry, Asirpa, they gently tell her, it was either you or him.
Alas, Asirpa is struggling to accept that she's done this. Even with the help of Sugimoto cutting his eye out and sucking out the poison. They didn't get him the help in time and infection and fever got the better of him.
Perhaps his last words to the world were Yuusaku-dono.
But his last words to Asirpa certainly weren't.
She can't sleep. Not even brains will keep her smile up for more than a few scant seconds. She won't take up her bow in fear of causing catastrophe yet again. Because it was an accident and Sugimoto will never forgive himself for startling her. He blames himself, but ultimately, Asirpa knows the blame is on the archer alone.
Hallucinations, whether insomnia related or guilt ridden, are no less real to Asirpa than if the real person was there with her. The arrow sticks out of his eye and he has a pleased little smile on his jagged mouth. Blood covers half his face whilst the other is pristine with the frost of that snowstorm holding it taught.
"Hello, Asirpa-san."
Her hands fly for the bow and arrow in her fear, for the first time since killing him.
His smile only widens. It splits his face in half. "Will you do it again?" What Asirpa has been too scared to say, Ogata says: "Now that you have become a wenkamuy, will you accept that I was right?"