Hold Harmony Sacred

     The girl seemed hesitant to ask, Miko noted. Nevertheless, a gentle smile was offered.

“Good evening yourself,” she nodded in return. “And I’d be honored, Miss.”

Now, what was important: Imanotsurugi raised his free hand to point straight at the sword that hanged from her belt, and with big red eyes still fixed on the other’s he asked a question that, in all honesty, sounded more like a complaint: “How come your sword is not made of wood? Didn’t they take it away?”

     Lifting the holster strapped to her side a bit, she eyed the sun-like hilt of the blade. It was truly an ornate look. Honestly, she still marveled over it’s design. It was just as renowned as she was.

     “Hm?” She looked up upon being asked if she wanted a refreshment. Sparkling liquid in a crystal clear crystal glass. Taking it into her hand and bringing it to her lips her eyes darted to the side just in time to see a person approaching her.

     As such, the other’s words caught her off guard slightly.

“Refreshments? ... Yes, I could do with one. I just wanted to get away from the crowd, for a moment.” Yes-- here, the noise of the party wasn’t as great as when she was in the thick of it. Idly, she asked for a drink before returning her gaze to the other girl.

     The BROWNISH oculars stared right through at the others, with tinted curiosity resided within the substitute reaper. 

     [ Their appearance somehow resembled of an animal race like foxes? ] … The curiosity compelled him to take a mulling about the others’ actual whereabouts.

“True... but perhaps to them, I’ve indeed done something bad.”

“At the very least, the shinigami I know of don’t care much for those whom have cheated death. Immortal hermits, such as myself.” She wasn’t immortal here-- but it was all the same. Her real body died long ago, after all. You can fool death, but it will always come back to haunt you. Quite literally. 

It was still confusing.

She tilted her head, her gaze set on her in curious regard. Perhaps there was a little misunderstanding on her part in terms of the span of time about which this person was curious. If the other asked any further questions regarding recent events, Suruga would be happy to oblige. For now, the topic at present shifted to another matter altogether; this person indicated that they would be just as handy at finding out whatever they needed to know.

Suruga wasn’t concerned about that anymore, but rather what she was asked next.

“I am! It’s presently the Heisei, isn’t it? Unless there are people herefrom the future, that’s what it currently is, and my entire life has been spent there. As for your other question–”

It was times like these that she’d wished she paid better attention in her studies. She was fairly certain that she reviewed this in class for a while, yet the significance of the name continued to evade her. Her expression fell, but only for a second. Really, not immediately being able to recall this was a bit embarrassing for her.

She had to answer, though – that was a requirement. So, she proceeded to disclose what she could, giving whatever information she did know with certainty.

     Waiting for an answer to her question, Miko gently brought her shaku up to her face. And then, a pleasant laugh was poised as the other couldn’t.

“I see, I see! No... that’s quite alright. So you're not sure of ‘Shotoku’...”

     She cants her head slightly.

“... Then do you know of these two names? Mononobe and Soga.”

     It was a bit of a shame, but Miko supposed that it was natural. In a time where human beings didn’t believe she existed, not everyone would remember the name. After all, to them, she was a made-up legend. “I’ll give you a hint. They were from the Asuka period.”

夜遊び by kaze

    THERE’S the jolly, fat old man we all know and love. It’s another day of standing around in the mall (hoping someone will recognize her and give her a free pass out of this hellhole), getting out of the apartment (to escape those weirdos assigned to be her roommates). Expecting a decent day of escapism. Is a mall santa really appropriate for a hopeless citadel like Hive City? What’s the point in giving out empty promises when no one’s going to believe you’ll keep them anyway? 

    Needless to say, the amount of kids who want to sit on Santa’s lap is zero. 

“Not at all. ... It’s but a middle aged worker, attempting to make a living by doing a mundane job. They wish to be hired elsewhere, but alas...”

     She pauses-- realizing she was somewhat rambling.

“Er, but that’s not what you asked about-- no, I don’t believe so at all.”

What kind of face do you wear when you’re free? On the bus and the walk and in the restaurant where you eat dinner alone, where, when you’re picking up your food, you’re jostled, and your food is spilled.

Shannon, Shannon, aren’t you kind? Forgiving?

“Ah…” Why don’t you pick it up, Shannon? That salad all in pieces on the floor. Isn’t that your job? “Excuse me… I’m sorry, could I… it spilled… could you make another?”

She can’t look at the girl who ran into her, can’t bear it. Too much would show. She looks away. “Is that alright? I don’t want to be a bother… it’s just, …I can’t really…”

     Contradictory ones. Multiple contradictions-- all within the same person. ... And yet, they weren’t coming from the same person. Curious. Very, very curious. ... Self-loathing seemed to be the most prominent, however.

“... It’s fine,” she speaks softly. Then she clears her throat. “Another order of this girl’s food-- I’ll be paying. And menu for myself, if you would please.”

     Her words came out quickly to a worker nearby, who seemed surprised momentarily-- but went right about doing as she asked with but a nod. Miko’s words were a concise, yet pleasant order-- and were effectively carried out.

     Eyeing her pleasantly, with a smile on her face, the Crown Prince looked at her, and looked through her. Like the sun shining through a storm.

“Care to dine with me? Consider it my apology. ... And don’t worry about the mess. Here...” Leaning down, she brought her cape with her hand over the mess-- and it was gone. All save for the sturdy plate and utensils.

     Both of which were now in Miko’s hands as he stood back up.

Unfortunately, as much as the response seemed polite Ja’far wasn’t in the mood for riddle-filled speaking.

     Miko answered clearly and directly. There was no sense in overthinking when it came to a satori, after all. “I am Toyosatomimi no Miko, a hermit.”