Tenshi cradled herself, shielding her eyes from sunlight.
How long had she been hiding? After rushing to her room and nabbing a clean shirt, she had crept into one of the gardens, behind a rose bush in full bloom far from her room. By the way the sun was now, she assumed it was already another day on earth. All her wounds had already healed, anyway.
She grabbed one of the thorny branches of the rose bush, and smiled grimly as the thorns bit into her palm, wiping away caked tears from her eyes.
There was no turning back now. As long as Iku had considered her merely a burden, she had been able to delay what she had felt in her heart to be her inevitable trajectory, but now, after what she had said and done, it was too late. She had no place in Bhava-Agra any longer, even less than she had had before. Where could she go? There was no place where she could turn.
Her thought wandered to Gensokyo and Cirno. Move to Gensokyo? She scoffed at the idea. Perhaps she had ought to escaped there long ago, back when her reputation hadn't been quite so besmirched, but now?
She didn't deserve it.
No, she really didn't. She had not deserved her place in Paradise in the first place. Was it any wonder she had not been nothing but miserable there? She didn't deserve a place in the Eastern Wonderland either. She deserved nothing.
A couple dressed in silk and sporting elegant coiffures slowly walked down the stone path to the garden, offering them a good glimpse of Tenshi. Tenshi wilfully ignored them, looking at the grass until they had past, out of an outdated instinct doing what she could to keep the contempt bubbling within her off her face.
The people passed without a word, merely a glance, continuing on to their life of frivolity, chatting quietly. Tenshi told herself it was folly, but every word of that indistinct discussion felt like a stab in the heart for her, poisonous the way physical pain wasn't.
Perhaps they didn't speak of her. In a way, that was just as insulting. The look those people gave her, and then to each other alone, dismissing her as a lost cause, immediately pegging her as some kind of a pesky, if sometimes amusing annoyance, an eternal outsider, a mere joke. The glances had chased her until the only place in Heaven where she felt safe was her cot, her room a prison rather than a home.
Tenshi squeezed her hands tight in her apron. She knew she was useless, yes, but it was different when she told it to herself to when others thought so. What right did they have to judge her, to shun her, to talk of her behind her back?
Was she blameless? No, she knew she had done much to invoke the disdain and reservation of the other Celestials. But that was not the whole story. That implied she alone was to blame, and that her heartless and duplicitous peers were completely right. They had started it, acting as if she didn't belong, and when she had finally confided in some of them, admitting how she didn't feel accepted and how she had to force herself to keep a brave face, all but ignored her concerns, laughing in her face. That was before the sidelong glances and the whispers, but even those memories followed Tenshi wherever she went, haunting her, appearing to her in vivid colours just as she thought she had found peace. Not even the walls of her rooms could keep her thoughts away.
They had no right. They still had no right. Tenshi knew well how worthless she was, but those others had no right to sneer at her. She was no worse than them.
Iku's face flashed in her mind.
Tenshi curled herself up even smaller, wishing she could turn smaller still until she vanished out of existence.
No, she was worse. She had allowed herself to stoop to their level. If she had always thought the other celestials had no right to live, and that only some vestiges of fear and the knowledge that she would lose had stopped from enacting bloody vengeance on the whole of Bhava-Agra, what did that make her now that she was as bad as them?
Why should anyone care about how she felt, after all? She was useless, pointless, annoying, nothing more than a burden to her parents and everyone around her. She had no skills to change anyone's mind, and even if she did, why would anyone change their minds about her after all these years and everything she had done? She was forever tainted, and no matter how she yearned to be pure again, she couldn't erase the past, erase the mistakes she had had made, erase the sins had had hurt others. What was even the point of apologising when it wouldn't even begin to make things right? She might as well make it easier for everyone and remain a target, a punchline of jokes, a punching bag for the other Celestials' jibes, the unruly daughter who flouted tradition, a spoilsport who caused nothing but chaos in her wake. Why should she try to change when she would never be accepted all the same?
An image of Cirno swam to her mind. Cirno, who treated her as a normal person. Cirno, who reacted to her lies as frankly and honestly as if she had never heard of lies before. Cirno, with her bright eyes and brighter smile, laughing, pouting, channelling her powers, all with the same earnestness.
She hated Cirno.
More than that, she envied Cirno.
She envied Cirno, and the hateful beast within her roared in her ears at the thought of the ice fairy appeared. How dare that foolish, impure creature, a weakling fairy, an imbecile, be happy and free when Tenshi's life was forever marred, tainted, beyond repair and without use? What was Cirno's purpose? She didn't seem to know, and even less to care. She was happy the way Tenshi would never be, and the more Tenshi thought of it, the more she yearned to take her sword and slash that foolish smile of Cirno's face forever more.
Despite Bhava-Agra's healing qualities, Tenshi's temples began to throb. Did she really have any right to hold Cirno in contempt? Wasn't it her own fault that her life had been ruined, for being so blasted useless and worthless in the first place? While Cirno was no more useful, she had risen far higher than a fairy should: she was genuinely powerful, and while Tenshi would never admit it to her face, she was truly impressed by her manipulation of ice. Whereas Tenshi had ascended to be more than a common mortal, a flawless being, and had botched it regardless and was no better than a common flower bug! How could she have failed so badly?
She couldn't help it, and could only be glad no-one was there to see it: hot, scalding tears brimmed over and streamed down her face, drenching her face and arms. She sobbed, and hated herself more for every tear she shed.
It took her several moments to compose herself. Then, she stood up. She wiped her face.
Well, she knew what the right thing to do was. She also knew how to both do the right thing and hurt Cirno, possibly even enough to forever wipe the innocent smile off her face.
Escaping from Paradise and tracking down Cirno only took a short while. Today, Tenshi found her alone, standing on the field where she had originally met her, conjuring wisps of icy mist into the air.
Tenshi strode forward, hoping to attract Cirno's attention with the mere sound of her footsteps. She succeeded: Cirno turned around, eyes wide, and greeted Tenshi with a smile.
"Hey, it's you!" Cirno rushed forward, but after a few steps, froze in her tracks and stared at Tenshi's pristine shirt-front.
"That's right." Tenshi wriggled the hems of her shirt out of her skirt and raised them just enough to show that her abdomen was no worse for wear after the battle on the previous day. "Do you believe me now?"
Cirno nodded vigorously.
"Good. I have been thinking about your abilities. Perhaps you will never be able to match a Celestial, but at the same time, I believe you can get far as far as the earth is concerned. However, there is one are in your combat abilities where you're sorely lacking."
"What's that?"
"Even if your magical skills are top-notch, that won't take you to the top unless you learn to apply it creatively." Tenshi examined her fingernails in an exaggerated gesture.
"Freezing frogs is creative," Cirno argued, brow furrowing slightly.
Tenshi snorted. "How is it any different from what you usually do? I mean, you can create a big cluster of ice in front of you. Whoop-de-doo. If you really want to excel in combat, you need to learn to adapt yourself."
Cirno didn't look very pleased at the assessment of her skills. "I can do more than that."
"A little, perhaps, but not enough." Tenshi unsheathed her sword and twirled it in her hands. "Can you create a pillar of ice in front of me? Around the same height as you are."
Cirno frowned, but then thrust her palms forward and created a field of frost. Slowly, a pillar of ice manifested itself, its growth rate accelerating until there was a huge cluster, thicker and taller than Cirno herself.
"Good." Tenshi took a proper stance and grabbed her sword with both hands. "Step back."
As soon as Cirno got out of the way, Tenshi lunged forward and struck the pillar several times, her blade dancing in the air with speed faster than the human eye. Then, she pulled back, sheathing the sword in one fluid motion. For a split second, the pillar still appeared unmolested. Then, gravity took effect, and the slices she had carved out of it toppled over all over at once, leaving nothing but a stump on the ground, and several perfectly identical slices of ice.
"There." Tenshi raised her eyes, face impassive, but secretly relishing the impressed look Cirno gave her. "What I'm trying to say is that power alone isn't enough. It's the skill to wield that power that decides who wins the match at the end of the day."
Cirno's eyes sparkled. "I want to try that too!" And without waiting for Tenshi's input, began to fashion herself a sword of ice.
"Yes, you have some notion of the application of your skills." Tenshi drew her blade once more. "However, first things first. How are your hand-to hand combat skills?"
"Dunno." Cirno had now completed the sword: a sturdy, slightly curved number. The blade glittered in the sun, looking every inch as deadly as a metal sword. "I just freeze things."
"That's fine as long as you can keep your foes at distance, but what will you when—" Tenshi dashed forward without finishing her sentence, reaching Cirno before the ice fairy had time to blink, and with great accuracy stopped the sword's motion just short of it pricking Cirno's forehead. Cirno's reaction was delayed, first a startled widening of eyes, mouth falling open. Then, she dropped down, still looking stupefied, sword clattering onto the ground.
Tenshi waited.
After few more moments, Cirno found her wits again.
"That was great!" she sputtered, laughing.
"You realise that with enough strength, I could have skewered your brains right there and then, and you would have been powerless to stop me, right?" Tenshi waited Cirno to scamper back onto her feet and pick up her blade, then used her own sword to level it upwards. "What you ought have done, if you were unable to to dodge, was to parry my blade like this..." She pulled back and struck quickly, savouring the unusual ring her blade made against the reinforced ice. "See? But then you opponent might..." she pulled back against, very slowly bringing her sword to Cirno's side. "What do you do now?"
"Uh..." With an awkward movement, Cirno brought her own blade to meet Tenshi's.
"You have the right idea, but if you do it that way, you'll leave your right side wide open for another attack." Tenshi took several steps backwards. "Here, let's try this. You attack me, and I show you how to parry it."
"Okay!" Cirno beamed a trusting smile at her. If Tenshi had had a heart, or any thought she could gain redemption, she might have felt guilty seeing that strange trust, so quickly developed, that no-one else bestowed upon her. Of course, that trust only served to prove what an absolute fool Cirno was. She deserved to see that trust so freely given trampled.
Tenshi raised her blade. "Very well. Come at me."
To her surprise, Cirno actually took some time to decide on her next move. She weighted a sword in her hand, biting her lip in concentration. Finally, she dashed forward, her run clearly marking her as someone not accustomed to swordplay. Tenshi easily parried the incoming swing, then stepped to the left and directed the sword's trajectory, the momentum still in it, to strike the ground instead. Blades of grass flew into the air, and Cirno stumbled as the trajectory temporarily sucked her down with it. She soon regained her balance, and to Tenshi's secret approval had enough sense to back away to regain her stance.
"Right." Tenshi lowered her sword. "You're holding your sword in a weird angle, and if you raise it above your head like that, you're leaving your body wide open to counter-attacks. Instead, you should—" She raised her sword again, and did a few practice swings against thin air, keeping her upper body safely guarded all the while. "See the difference?"
Cirno nodded. "I think so. But what if I have to hit higher to hit an opponent who's a lot taller than me?"
Tenshi smirked. "I say go for the kneecaps."
She lunged forward again. Cirno actually caught on and raised her blade to parry, but again at the wrong angle: Tenshi had all the time in the world to slice her shoulder into ribbons.
She refrained from doing so, and instead slowed down, aiming for Cirno's stomach. Cirno's eyes widened, and she stumbled backwards, far enough to immediately avoid the tip of the sword, but not far enough to make it out unscathed if Tenshi pushed forward.
"I told you, keep your torso guarded!" Tenshi hissed. "If you can do no better than that, you shall have to make yourself a suit of armour out of ice as well. Imagine how ungainly that will be."
"What's ungainly?"
Tenshi shook her head. "Clumsy."
Cirno bristled. "I'm not clumsy!"
"No, that's what the word means."
"Oh." Cirno bit her lip. "Well, it depends on the armour. If it's just a block of ice, it will be difficult to move in, but if it's thin layers..." she looked upwards, her sword arm lolling to her side, the tip of her sword scraping the ground.
Swift as lightning, Tenshi stepped forward, and placed her sword on Cirno's thin, unguarded neck.
"Lesson number three," she whispered as Cirno felt the cold steel on her jugular and froze. "While duelling, keep your eyes on your opponent."
She backed away, noticing to her satisfaction that even the light touch had cut a thin red line onto Cirno neck. "Now, show me what you've got."
Cirno's breathed heavily, her brow knitted in intense concentration. Then, she disappeared into a mist of frost that had suddenly manifested itself around her. Just as Tenshi figured out what to do, Cirno emerged from the mist at a furious speed, screaming an inarticulate battle cry.
Tenshi lunged to the left, avoiding most of the swing, but a part of her white sleeve got caught by the blade. The sound of fabric ripping in her eyes, Tenshi continued on her trajectory, eyes widening, as Cirno came to a halt and blinked.
"That was clever," Tenshi gasped, genuinely impressed. How could this foolish fairy keep surprising her like this? She almost regretted what she about to do.
"As clever as that was," she continued, allowing the smugness that had come to her so naturally before to creep into her voice, "you will notice I do not have as much as a scratch on my person. You need to do better. Come. Strike again."
Cirno lowered her blade and pulled a face. "But if I strike when you tell me to, you'll be expecting it."
"Very good!" said Tenshi in a mock encouraging voice. "You have figured out something even little children understand: the importance of surprise. On your own time, then."
Cirno prepared herself for another strike, but instead of moving forward, wavered in place, considering her options. Tenshi kept her eyes firmly peeled on her, and eventually, when Cirno hesitated still, took matters into her own hands.
"Too slow!" She called out victoriously, and rushed forward at her highest speed. As Cirno blinked, she brought her blade to her neck once again, allowing the metal to bite again into the vulnerable skin there. Cirno gasped.
"What did I tell you about letting your guard down?" Tenshi retreated. In a supposedly careless motion, she raised her sword over her head, exposing her torso to attacks.
Cirno stopped rubbing her neck and grinned. "Gotcha now!" She lunged forward, and stabbed Tenshi just beneath the ribs.
Tenshi exhaled heavily and watched Cirno's eyes widen as the blade sunk into her flesh like a knife into soft butter. The blade was indeed as sharp as Tenshi had hoped it would be, and the searing waves of pain spreading into her limbs from the wound were bliss and heaven. She closed her eyes, hoping the sword would go deeper, pierce her entirely, bleed her dry and end her miserable existence.
The blade came to a halt.
Tenshi opened her eyes in annoyance. Cirno had pulled back and halted the advance of the blade. It was still lodged in Tenshi's chest, and Cirno was staring at it and the rivulets of blood slowly springing from the wound with widening eyes.
Tenshi sighed. She could assess the damage the stab had done, and it was nowhere near enough. Cirno had managed to stop the attack far sooner than she had hoped, and if she went back to Bhava-Agra with this wound, it would be gone by the next morning.
Thus, while Cirno was still reeling, Tenshi grabbed the blade, savouring but otherwise ignoring the way it bit into her palm, coating the ice with crimson anew, and with a strong, jabbing pull, thrust it deep, deep into her flesh, yanking Cirno forward with it.
She felt the sword coming through her back, and imagined the dark hue her innards had dyed the tip, and breathed in happily. She had failed to pierce her lungs, but from the horrible, wondrous pain which blinded her and made her fall on her knees, she knew the stab would be the end of her regardless.
She distantly heard Cirno cry out, like from beneath water, and felt her back hit the grass, the ground pushing the tip of the blade back into her and thrusting the part closest to the hilt out, tainted and marred beyond salvaging. She still couldn't see: perhaps her eyes still worked, but she had not the will to open them. Instead, she imagined what the blade looked like, and what kind of a sight she herself was. Her body felt incredibly heavy, and this time the burning sensation wouldn't go away; it consumed her like flames, burning away all other thought.
Cirno was still making noises, and Tenshi struggled to make out the words. She felt tiny hands on her shoulders, then on her forehead, then she heard the sound of bare feet pacing back and forth on the grass. The child was in shock, no doubt, and for a moment Tenshi regretted what she had done. It wasn't Cirno's fault she was happy, nor was it her fault that Tenshi was anything but.
"Eldest Daughter!"
Tenshi's eyes snapped open, or would have if she had had the strength to move her eyelids with such speed. Instead, she slowly opened them to see the foggy world around her, and two blotchy figures against the blue sky; a smaller blue-and-white one, and a larger glowing scarlet one with hints of black and purple. Even if she couldn't see properly, the voice had been unmistakable and filled her with dread.
"Why isn't she moving?" She heard Cirno ask now that she was straining to hear what was going around her. "She pushed the blade through her and then she stopped moving."
Even without seeing it properly, Tenshi could imagine the stare Iku gave to Cirno. She attempted to laugh, but the best she could managed sounded like a gurgle, so quiet she doubted either of the others even heard it.
"What is your name, little one?"
"Cirno."
"Cirno." Tenshi heard someone crouch next to her, and felt Iku's cool, slender hand on her shoulder. When she narrowed her eyes, she could almost make out her expression, but not quite. "I am aware fairies function somewhat differently from most other creatures, but a strike like this is enough to ravage most living creatures. Even a celestial can and will be killed by an attack that's enough to devastate their physical form like this."
There was a silence. When Tenshi next heard Cirno's voice, it was quivering. "She said she couldn't die. She said no celestial would ever..." the voice petered out, and Tenshi felt two cold, tiny hands on her shoulders, one right next to Iku's, shaking her. "You said I couldn't hurt you!"
Regret mingled with pain again, and Tenshi opened her mouth, hoping she could say something to comfort Cirno. To tell her this was in no way her fault. To tell her she had enjoyed spending time with her. To tell Iku she was sorry.
Her mouth fell shut again, useless. The best she could do was shed a few feeble tears. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. This was supposed to be a moment of relief, not further despair.
Suddenly, it felt like Cirno had slipped a cube of ice down Tenshi's collar. Tenshi knew from experience that the sensation had nothing to do with Cirno, however.
It meant a shinigami had arrived.
She felt both Iku and Cirno tense. This was normally the point where Tenshi stood up, wielded her sword with a haughty smile, and drove away the poor sap sent to collect her soul. Now, however, she neither had the strength nor will to battle the newcomer. Rather, she welcomed them, to take her away from the dark pain consuming her more and more by the minute, and the slow, deadly pain that had poisoned her life and initially brought on this mess.
"Eldest Daughter!" There was a note of alarm in Iku's usually calm voice. "Please, if you can hear me, you must get up!"
"Who is that?" Cirno asked, voice shaking.
"The reaper who has come to collect the soul of The Eldest Daughter. We must get her away from her! She cannot possibly combat her in this state."
"She's going to take her away?"
"Yes, if she cannot either fight her or escape from her. Eldest Daughter!" Tenshi suddenly found herself cradled in Iku's arms. Finally, the mist in front of her eyes cleared enough to reveal a look of utter panic on Iku's face.
"No-one's gonna take her away if I can help it!" Cirno stepped forward, facing the advancing shadow, hands on hips even as it became apparent the advancing shinigami was several feet taller than her. "She's my friend, and if she's not gonna fight, I'm gonna fight in her stead!"
She bit her lip, and began conjuring another blade of ice. "She helped me get stronger! So now I'm gonna be the strongest, even stronger than celestials!"
Iku placed a hand on Cirno's shoulder. "Child, you do not understand. The shinigami will merely destroy you and take the Eldest Daughter regardless."
"Not going to happen!" Cirno cried. She lowered her voice. "I'll come back anyway soon after. But she won't, will she? I can't let her die. And I don't care who I have to beat to save her! I'll freeze the whole world if I have to."
Iku stared at Cirno. "Are you really willing to do battle with the shinigami for the Eldest Daughter's sake?"
The icy blade gleamed in the sunlight. "Yeah."
"Then, I beg of you. Please stall her. Whether you can defeat her or not, if you can occupy her for long enough, I may be able to take Eldest Daughter to safety."
"Eh?"
"If I can return her to Paradise in time, the shinigami should not be able to seize her. I will plead for the leaders of heaven to shut the gates. But she will surely catch me if you cannot distract her. You're Eldest Daughter's only hope." Iku bowed her head. "Please."
Cirno nodded sombrely. "You got it. I'll show that reaper that no scythe is a match for ice."
Tenshi gasped in pain as Iku slid her arm underneath her knees, shifting the gaping hole in her chest. Then, she was no longer on the ground, lifted like she was made of nothing but air. She felt she ought to protest, but even her cry had been little more than a squeak. She fought against the darkness that endeavoured to claim her, but soon enough she accepted its embrace, and no longer knew what happened around her.
Tenshi opened her eyes.
That it happened at all surprised her enough that she thought nothing further right away. Everything was blurry, as if she was looking at the world through a veil. It was impossible to make out anything in the dim light.
Tenshi groaned, but no sound came out. Then, she began to wonder whether she was dead or alive.
The memories of her duel with Cirno came back to her intermittently, as hazy as the world around her. She remembered grasping the blade and shoving it deeper inside her. She remembered falling to what she had hoped would be her oblivion. The remaining memories floated at the edges of her conscience, just beyond her reach, along with the answer to whether she had died or not.
She tried to move, and a soft groan escaped her lips as all her muscles were tender and only barely obeyed her commands. However, just feeling pain wasn't enough of an indicator either way: ghosts felt something, didn't they? Moreover, if she wasn't a ghost at all, but quickly sent to an enma and already in Hell, she would definitely feel pain.
As far as the Hell theory went, however, she had her doubts. The surface she was lying on was incredibly soft, and there was even a fluffy blanket set on top of her. Would they really treat newcomers to Hell with such kindness? Perhaps, if it was intended as a further torture when all comfort was forever stripped away from them, but somehow that didn't sound right.
She focused all her attention on her eyelids, and blinked rapidly t to remove some of the haze tormenting her. It worked, and she found herself looking at a simple round ceiling, with small gold adornments by the sides.
She was in her room.
She shifted, now recognising the familiar bed, and looked down on herself. Someone had taken her blood-soaked clothes, and replaced them with bandages and a pure white dress. Even though she now knew where she was, Tenshi's earlier ghost theory lingered on. Perhaps she was doomed to wander the halls of her parents' home, never to escape Bhava-Agra even in her death. A punishment worse than any Hell.
She propped herself up against the pillows, pushing them against the wall with her back, and finally managed to reach a sitting position. She took a look at herself. All the minor cuts and bruises were long since healed, without a single trace, and the hole in her chest was but a small scar now.
She got up, groggy, as if she was wading through water. Her muscles were stiff from the abuse and ensuing disuse they had suffered, a bitter reminder of past events. She still recalled how she had felt then, vaguely at least, although she could not fully comprehend her line of thinking at the time. Everything from before she woke up felt vague, like belonging to a different world.
She landed her feet on the soft carpet, and without bothering to look for shoes or an overcoat, she walked to the door in. The birds of paradise sung, chittering aimlessly and flying over the endless gardens of Bhava-Agra. Tenshi leaned into the veiled doorway, looking at the rays of sunlight caught by the iridescent fabric, and for the first time in centuries thought Heaven was beautiful.
Things were amiss, she knew that much. Her peace of mind couldn't last, and the rational part of her was only waiting for the other shoe to drop. Her misery was still there, lurking, deep in the abyss that had been burrowed into her chest by the endless abuse and neglect. Nothing had changed. This was merely a short respite before the world plunged her back into despair.
She pushed the veil aside and stepped into the empty courtyard. The white lilies by the walls swayed gently in the wind, and she smiled at them. Often, the quietness of the courtyard only served to remind her of her loneliness, but today, she felt it a peaceful place. She needed time for herself, both to remember, and to think.
Could anyone understand the decision she had come to, anyway? Could she even understand it herself now that the moment had passed? Suicide was an anathema, and to a celestial, it should have been an impossibly.
Tenshi began to quiver despite the warm air. No doubt Iku had already told her parents what had happened. What would they do? They would be incensed for sure. Perhaps they would go as far as to disown her, or even cast her out of Paradise. In a way, Tenshi almost hoped it would happen. If nothing else, it would be a chance of pace. A kind of freedom, even.
But what if — and here, Tenshi began to shake in earnest — what if they simply gave her one long look, sigh, and then continue on as if nothing had ever ever happened. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility. During her first rampages, they had attempted to scold her, but when that had proven ineffective, they had merely sighed and given up, leaving her to her own devices. Only Iku had shown any real interest in her behaviour, and that had been too little, too late. Tenshi had never believed she said the things she said as anything other than lip service.
Iku...
Tenshi closed her eyes as her head began to ache again. Why had Iku come after her, after everything she had done?
She now remembered clearly the look on Iku's face as she had picked her up. It had been genuine concern. Rather than comforting, it was like a weight around her heart. How could she have been so utterly wrong?
She stared at the lilies, no longer happy to see them, dreading the moment she would have to move and encounter someone.
Speak of the devil.
She heard someone landing softly behind her. Even without looking, she guessed it was Iku, if only because she was the last person Tenshi wished to see right then, and the universe hated her.
Finally, she turned around. She had been right, of course. Iku looked as impeccable as ever, but with a hard look on her face. Tenshi didn't dare to meet her eyes.
"Eldest Daughter."
Tenshi forced herself to look up. There was no rancour in Iku's voice or eyes. The look she was giving Tenshi was a look of pity, another sentiment Tenshi disliked, but she infinitely preferred it to the one she had been expecting. "Yes, Iku?"
"Are you..." Iku hesitated. "Do you find yourself well this morning?"
Tenshi shrugged. She didn't really know how she felt. "I guess."
Iku nodded. An awkward silence ensued. Tenshi resisted the urge to turn around and stomp back into her room. She didn't want to spurn Iku, not now. There were things she needed to know first, and for all she knew, Iku was the last person in the world not to treat Tenshi like a leper.
"I suppose you told my parents about what happened," she said at length, attempting to sound as nonchalant as possible.
"I thought it best to keep the matter private for the time being," said Iku, deadpan.
Tenshi sneered. "Right. Is that your way of saying you knew you would be in trouble if you confessed to them I managed to get away from you and nearly died?" She regretted the words as soon as she had spoken them. Iku had done nothing wrong, after all. It wasn't her fault if she didn't like Tenshi. It was Tenshi herself that made people not like her.
Iku drew up to her full height, attempting to look as official as possible. "Had I believed the revelation would only have consequences to myself, I would have reported the information as soon as we returned to Bhava-Agra. That is not the case, however." She knitted her brow. "How is your wound?"
"It's fine."
"Eldest Daughter." Iku swallowed, then bowed her head. "I really must apologise for my indiscretion."
Tenshi frowned. "What are you even talking about? The only thing you need to apologise for to me is for bringing me back here." Back to the land of the living. Back where she would have to find a way to swallow her pride and apologise to Iku for her bratty behaviour or else self-destruct as her guilt was ripping her in twain. Back to what wasn't oblivion, but a return to the abyss that her life had always been.
"I know you don't mean that, Eldest Daughter."
"I do." Did she? What did she want, really? For this all to be over without her having to do anything about it. An end to the ennui, and end to the slow, gnawing pain, an end to the numbness and loneliness that followed her as tenaciously as a shadow. She had attempted to take matters into her own hands, but now that she had failed, she no longer had the will to reattempt the feat. She simply wanted to lie down, here in this very courtyard, and become one with the grass.
"Eldest Daughter." Was it an illusion of light, or was there a tear glistening in Iku's eye? "Please. I must apologise."
"At least tell me what you're apologising for," said Tenshi, looking away.
"For my misjudgement, and for my failure to understand you." Now there was no mistake: Iku's eyes were brimming with tears. She got down on one knee in front of Tenshi and took her hand. Tenshi kept her hand limp, but didn't pull away. Instead, she stared at Iku, unable to believe what was happening.
"What?" she finally stammered. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm the one who caused all the chaos. How does your understanding have anything to do with it?"
Iku shook her head. "If I had known...If before I had understood how much pain you were in." She stood up and wrapped her arms around her, gently embracing her. Tenshi struggled against her arms, but not because they were unpleasant or because the hug was an utter breach of decorum. Rather, the sensation was so warm and comforting, and thus so alien to her she couldn't help but resist it.
Tenshi choked on tears of her own. All after she had woken up felt like some kind of a delirious fantasy, a make-believe dream of a brain at brink of death. The arms around her were tangible, undoubtedly real, as was the body pressed against hers. It was beyond what she could cope with, far more than she deserved. She deserved nothing but death.
"I shouldn't have said those things to you," she mumbled against Iku's shoulder.
Iku frowned and shifted so that she could see Tenshi's face. "What did you say, Eldest Daughter?"
"I didn't mean what I said to you," Tenshi continued on. Tears began streaming down her face. "I was angry and just wanted you to go away. I didn't actually mean it."
"There, there," Iku placed her hand on Tenshi's head and pulled her closer as she began to weep. "It no longer matters. First we must sort out whatever ails you."
A rush of fear ran through Tenshi. "Are you going to tell my parents what happened now?"
"Not unless you wish me to. I do believe telling them about what transpired might be for the best, however."
"Don't!" Tenshi said sharply. "They wouldn't understand. You know what they're like."
Iku stroked Tenshi's hair and sighed. "If you so wish, Eldest Daughter. However..." Iku leaned back. The pity in her eyes was palpable, but for once it did not repulse Tenshi in the slightest. Perhaps, although Tenshi couldn't be certain, it was not mere pity, but also affection of some sort. "Please, accept my aid. I care about your well-being, Eldest Daughter, whether you believe it or not, and I wish to help you to overcome your predicament."
Tenshi swallowed. How was she supposed the answer to such undeserved gentleness, to such kindness? How could she tell Iku it was far too late, that she did not deserve help and was far beyond it regardless? How could she relay to her all the black thoughts and bitter rancour towards all of Paradise that still hung on her.
She opened her mouth again, but before she could speak, tears claimed her once again. Immediately, Iku embraced her again, holding Tenshi like a mother comforting her child.
"Cirno..." Tenshi mumbled.
Iku stroked Tenshi's hair. "I am certain she is well. If you wish, I will go check on her as soon as I have ascertained you are tolerably well."
Tenshi nodded against Iku's shoulder. Really, she wanted to go see Cirno herself, to make sure she hadn't been harmed due to Tenshi's idiocy, but at the same time, she wasn't sure she was ready to face Cirno again.
"All will be well, Eldest Daughter. I'll swear to it if I must." Iku whispered the words, and while Tenshi didn't believe them, she longed to. "All will be well."