the only way to achieve the impossible is to believe it is possible. ( from hakuji in his hakushira verse, perhaps? )
down the rabbit hole ! / @whimscult: hakuji
a spark of frustration ignites inside of her, brief but bright. ❝ and what will believing in the impossible get me ? ❞ she asks, bitterness coating her tongue & clinging to her words like a parasite. hotaru knows that his words are well meaning, coming from a place of sincerity. but that doesn’t make the lofty ideal any less painful to consider. ❝ besides disappointment. ❞
her irritation is misplaced. hakuji has done nothing to warrant it. as quickly as it ignited, the fire in her begins to fade, a weary chill settling in the marrow of her bones in its place. a muted resignation.
❝ … you know, even though kocho-san has taken me on as a tsuguko, i still don’t think i have what it takes to ever become a hashira. ❞ the young demon-hybrid admits, her voice soft with solemnity. slowly, she traces the length of the wooden practice blade with the pad of her fingertips, letting her gaze linger on the small scratches & notches in its structure - a testament to its endurance, to all the other slayers whose strength had developed & blossomed on this very land.
❝ how could i ? i’m not … like the rest of you. ❞ & though she speaks with such grief, it cannot outweigh her certainty. as if she were only acknowledging that every day, the sun rose. just as it was meant to, inevitably, set again. ❝ please don’t misunderstand, soyama-san. i still have every intention of trying my hardest and doing everything i can to become stronger. i just … don’t have any illusions of anything grander than that, i suppose. i am beginning to wonder if i ever did. ❞
hotaru feels heavy, now, as if iron itself filled her veins. she moves in silence across the tatami, returning the blunt weapon to its shelved siblings, the stars in her gaze clouded & dim. she doesn't have the conviction to look at him again. desperate for an anchor to ground herself, she lifts her chin. tilting her head to the sky, to the evening sun still desperately trying to warm the earth just outside. it must feel so nice.
❝ … if i hope too hard, or i believe too much … it only hurts more in the end. ❞ & she remembers, for a moment, being the little girl trailing behind the ubuyashiki family head. a child still trying to reckon with the cards fate thought fit to deal her. small & awkward & hopeful. it feels far away, now. that little girl is all but a stranger. ❝ and i think i’ve had enough of that for one lifetime. ❞
