vocab_drabbles | [Challenge #116: Verisimilar.] Aoi Shiro. "The Sea Maiden."

Title: The Sea Maiden
Fandom: Aoi Shiro (Visual Novel)
Author:

luminious
Rating: G
Word Count: 996
Characters/Pairings: Kohaku/Yasuhime
Warnings: None outside of the implication of ritual sacrifice in part IV.
Summary:

Kurou-sama is female, but she does not dress in accordance to nor act much like the ladies Oyasu grew up with, choosing to eat meat with her hands and use her long nails to sharpen her weapons and intimidate men who fancy Oyasu, rather than to sew clothing or to entice men like the girls of Oyasu’s village ready for marriage were taught.

“Do not call me Torahime-san,” Kurou-sama warns her—and sometimes still does—when they first become acquaintances.

Kohaku, for her single orb that turns barbarians into servants, or Kurou, for the color of the sky when she was most powerful, are the only names she answers to; she dawns them proudly with no care for the looks of those around her, and Oyasu can’t be any more enamored by such a unique way for another girl of age to be.

(Or, a pre-canon look into the days Yasuhime spent with Kohaku in ancient Japan.)
Disclaimer: I do not own Aoi Shiro, nor am I or will I ever profit from this work.

THE OCEAN THAT SURROUNDED the southern islands are much healthier a shade of blue—much more filled with undisturbed boulders and the sightings of jumping whales and lurking sharks—Oyasu notes in her mind, and it is almost a shining factor in the possible darkness the rest of her days alive will bring her.

“Nun, nun, what is going to happen from now on?”

Protect the sword—as far south as possible to ensure he does not get near it. Protect the sword—an oni will bear his enlarged fangs and bite at anyone who harms you, much better than a human barely older than the years the current era is in can ever.

Protect the sword—and sans the relic ensure the safety of herself most of all.

Beasts after all become more aberrant than they already are, once in possession of the blood of priestesses who watch over that which opens the gate to the castle surrounded by waves.

Dutiful as ever, Oyasu does what she is told, the only thing out of place that she soon trusts her life to, not a male youkai with sharp incisors wishing for a pure bride in return, but a crossdresser whose canines are exposed when she drinks sake, and is rather a sheathe to Oyasu as if she is the sword.

II.

Silver as the moon and scarlet as one’s blood, there is not a single day these two colors are not the first that make themselves known to Oyasu upon her eyelids opening and her orbs approaching a new day; yes, they become a custom, as is the sound of a two-bladed steel vanishing mouryou near the sea that rises and lowers in the night, and the telling laughter of a warrior who has just triumphed over their foe be it a mere human, a lackey youkai, or a strong creature blessed by a kami.

It is a new and unsettling experience at first but, eventually, the days the human has to spend with the demon sent to protect her become exciting, and rather nostalgic.

“Do not call me Torahime-san,” Kurou-sama warns her—and sometimes still does—when they first become acquaintances.

Kohaku, for her single orb that turns barbarians into servants, or Kurou, for the color of the sky when she is most powerful, are the only names she answers to; she dawns them proudly with no care for the looks of those around her, and Oyasu can’t be any more enamored by such a unique way for another girl of age to be.

Torahime-san, you’re amazing! Oyasu always wishes to tell the oni whenever she saves her from bandits or gives Oyasu extra, preservative attire during what little cold weekends the south bestowed upon travelers.

Oyasu does not do that though, far too flustered at her reverence for another girl, and thus she examines happily the swordswoman who has become her friend from close by, enjoying the more warm layers of the oni that towards any other human Kurou-sama would be too proud to have revealed.

III.

“Those stars represent star-crossed lovers hesitant to fight,” Oyasu tells the other girl as she points to the stars above, sitting on a boulder near the sea, any lurking youkai killed hours ago by the sacred sword Kohaku wields like nothing.

As usual, Kurou-sama chortles at her statement. “Ahaha! Humans and your creativity in describing the stars so…those are the constellations of enemies reading each other’s moves beforehand to win the battle.”

“Ah, but Kurou-sama, you too were a human once,” Oyasu reminds as she holds the oni’s left hand, “and no doubt likely once saw what I said.”

Kurou-sama shrugs.

“Who knows?”

Oyasu hums, and continues to look for more lights above to debate with the oni on what they depict.

IV.

Oyasu, for the first time in her life, disobeys the teachings instilled within her since her youth, for she does not want to continue without Kurou-sama—her bodyguard, her friend, her most precious person—being by her side, and she cares not how many different villages and islands and countries she passes as she attempts to find where the oni with hair silver as the moon and eyes scarlet as one’s blood has gone to retrieve her twin brother.

To her dismay, one of the regions she stops by temporarily on the journey seals her and uses her in response to her hospitality in bringing them back to health, the scales of the mermaid flesh she once ate and the powered crimson that once in strong waves traveled within her going from attributes to ensure she can live with Kurou-sama forever to chains that ensure she will always bestow fruition upon the solitary island that is Urashima.

The cool night the two reunite, it is not with the same body Oyasu once called hers present, nor is it during the the era Oyasu remembers embracing the firm body of Kurou-sama last.

“Torahime-san…” Oyasu whispers, brushing the hair of the oni who has fallen to her knees upon realizing who the small girl in front of her is the vessel for.

Oyashu smiles with a mouth not hers as Kurou-sama does not correct her like old times and instead grabs strands of hair from that child, much longer than Oyasu’s and even closer to the bright tint of snow than Kohaku’s.

With the grace of a period eons ago, Oyasu lowers herself to be more eye-level with the youkai, ensuring not to dirty the ends of the exquisite, intricate kimono weaved for the girl several days ago found slumbering in the rock-filled sea between two islands.

Finally, Kurou-sama is with her once more.

[FIN.]