/jp/ - Otaku Culture

>>45927850 (3/3—p1)
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I watch, heart thumping and still as a statue; in my mind's eye, that expression of his is like an intriguing painting—barely contained fury, clutching what he considers precious, whatever dead or fabricated it might be; skin shivering with intensity with the tall posture of a man ready to take on the world…

Those were true emotions.

Layering them on top of all interactions we've had comes naturally—the hours spent in each other's arms, his meek adoration of every inch of my body, thrusting deep inside and murmuring delightful words in my ears—the usual excitement of the thought is lost when comparison bitterly follows; truth always known yet until now ignored, for living in a sweet lie is much easier: there was never an ounce of passion in his eyes or truth to his words.

Why would there be anyway?

… Because it was with me. Me and him…

I wanted him to feel just as strongly as I was feeling.

“… 'Kari?” I turn to Flan, still in my arms, her features puzzled and disconcerted, all very unfit for Gensokyo's cutest nuclear device—results of her life inside that dammed basement. “Why did you hurt Chen?”

That pull of anguish and guilt inside, pleading me to go check on Chen, forms the next words. “Sorry you had to see that, Flan-chan~I was… Excited to see you and hadn't seen Chen, and so did what I did.” She frowns and, gently, I play with a lock of golden hair… So beautiful, of a shade just a tad livelier than mine. “Sometimes you just happen to have your eyes focused on something so intensely, you turn blind to the world around you… Be careful with that, okay? Don't be like me…” It's all said with a playful tone and a sweet smile, yet the words taste acidic in my mouth. Why? For the same motives I’d often go to that precipice and scream my woes to the uncaring world.

Flan slowly nods, thoughtful. Very cute~

“Anon said your maid was cooking, right? Why don't you go help her? Cooking is something everyone should know how to do~”

A moment of silence follows, her deep red eyes on mine—wearing those clothes, looking like a miniature of myself; this flowing golden hair and unparalleled strength to stand above everyone else as a god in everything but name… If I stopped thinking, even if for just a moment, this right here… It could be perfect; it could be everything I so very much seek—yet it's only that: a moment, which is broken by her beautiful shining smile. “Hm, okay~! I'll go help Sakuya-san after checking on Anon and Chen-chin~!” She swiftly jumps out of my arms and anxiously rushes inside the shrine.

My arms feel hollow, as if an empty bird’s nest.

… But it's not perfect. She doesn't carry my blood, my Gap—her love have limits and stronger bonds could sway her away from me… She'll never be perfect.

Alone in the empty world of snow and surrounded by a fake living forest, I tenderly touch the only thing that may be real here.

You'll be perfect…

Yet, you'll take some time to grace my life, right? Nine months… Mama can barely wait for you—because when you arrive, everything will be just right…

I close my eyes, recomposing my semblance, leaving those thoughts for my dreams. The present are those eyes of fire that have burned themselves into my mind, their allure growing stronger with each step I take towards the inside of the shrine. My skin heats up and my core shakes like a tree against a storm—such a weird reaction to words of spite, of muscles expressing rage in a sonata of primal manhood, eyes like bared fangs, strong arms clutching life, tiny and frail—not truth: a human could never hope to equate a youkai's strength… Yet, at that moment, things didn't seem so simple.

A gap takes off my shoes as I mull over my reaction to his little outburst, and I stop when I notice I hadn't even questioned for a moment what'd be punishment for speaking up against me like that… My lips pressed, plans put in the back burner and thunderstorm of feeling dispersed, usual calm and elegance returning to me, a perfect mask of porcelain…

But beneath it, the question had an answer: it was genuine.

His innocent love before his breakup with Reimu tempted me, took tight hold of me and laced my heart in stuporing love. I drank and drank from that well until, before I could notice, it had dried up. Love can still be cultivated in that soil; poetically, the seeds would be the fruits of his seed growing inside of me~

What he showed me is that—even if the well dried under the salt of fake smiles and pleasantries, of love making without love—there is still genuineness inside him to be given… in the form of deep-seated hatred.

That hatred towards me, hidden and bottled up, all mine…

My heart pumped and my legs wobbled, femininity excited, body intoxicated by this discovery, tepid warmth turned firestorm when fantasies start to form and grow and grow—

Love and hatred, me and you—two sides of the same coin, a wafer-thin boundary.

… A giggle escapes me.

In the end, you do feel as strongly as I do, Anon~