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RESUME!
>Two months after the Solstice, Hana is taking commissions from Keine to hunt Youkai. She hunts a foreign Yukionna and easily defeats her, but gets hurt in the process. She disregards it and goes back home. After she bathes, she meets with Keine who'd come to question her report on the Yukionna, saying the level of danger Hana associated with the Youkai was low. Hana's pride struggles against the logic, but she allegedly accepts the extra "pity money,". Keine hands her and Aunn invitations to hers and Mystia's double wedding, though the third invitation is meant for Anon, and asks Hana to deliver that one. Hana isn't keen on it, dwelling on her problems with Anon, but ultimately accepts to deliver it after Keine gives out some vague words. Keine leaves and Hana sulks as she prepares to leave, noticing many changes from the way she used to live and how much better off she is than Reimu ever was. She leaves for Anon's house, located on the border of Yuuka's fields, thinking a lot about Keine's words, determined to believe she enjoys the life she's been leading, where she throws herself at work so as not to face her fears and anxieties. She gets to Anon's house, chickens out briefly, but knocks and is greeted by Yuuka, who is very comfortable, like she's lived there her whole life. That nags at Hana, and after meeting with her father and being dragged into dinner with the two of them, the backlash she's been experiencing all night from her wounds from battling the Yukionna leaves her irate and sick, extrapolating her feelings out of control, which she directs at Anon, chastising him for having forgotten Reimu. She then collapses and calls her Father in distress before passing out.

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[Chapter Count]
(1970 entries)(+9 chapters last thread)

[for phoneanons who can't access the dead threads, here's the last thread. Link to all others in the 'all entries']:
>>https://warosu.org/jp/post/50505034 | 39th thread

[Expiration date: 1/27~1/28]

I'm sorry for archiving the previous thread. That comment was uncalled for and I hope Rananon forgives and forgets.

Why new thread if no updates ready?

>>50573358
I blame Yukari for manipulating the boundaries of your sexuality.

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Wind chimes beckoned me to the surface, away from a pool of comfortable darkness I swam in for a time neither long nor short. The bat of eyelashes and yet, everything around me had changed. Panorama, the surface I laid upon—the seasons. Gone's the winter and the cold; full trees and a clear blue sky welcome me. Torii gates. I longed to touch this ethereal plane but found myself immobilized. Her fingers brushed my hair and gently fixed my head on her lap, her range of movement untamed. “… You’re dead,” I told Mom.

“I am,” she said.

My last few seconds before I died came back to me: I yelled at Father, words evoked by the engine of rage that’s whirled since I watched the monster who took Mom’s body beat him from this very porch, then the sight of a black wound, and losing consciousness.

The fruit of my carelessness has been reaped, and this is its taste. Breeze blew, tepid, floral, and nostalgic. Would it be too greedy to wish for a dessert…? Yeah, likely. Mom’s fingers soothe me. Not so bad. “… This what being a mitama is like?” No question about that.

I am dead. Her words would make it real.

Rather, she huffed and batted a hand to my forehead. “Ouch!” I grumbled.

“Would the dead feel pain?” She massages the spot she’d slapped.

Ah… I’m alive. When I wake up, I'll have to face Father.

“So I’m just knocked out cold?” I asked. How can I feel pain in a dream and not wake up? “I’ve never… dreamed like this. I haven’t dreamed at all since the Solstice.” The last dream I recall is of Father and Mother walking away after they replaced me with a better daughter. My brows knit together. “That means you’re just a… delusion. Figment of my imagination,” she nodded, even though I couldn’t see it. “That sucks.”

“Why?” She fiddled with my bow. “It means you’re alive.”

“Because I miss you…” I paused to gather my breath. Feel hollow inside. “This you. We had no time to spend together—neither did you and Father… if you had, I think he'd have… forgiven you, I guess.”

“Does it matter?” Her fingers lingered. “That your father forgives me? Remembers me? Yearns for something we once had but lost because of me? No amount of time we could’ve gotten would’ve changed the scars he hides, that you know exist…” They resumed their delicate motions, and Mom’s voice grew soft as a plume. “It was a miracle by itself I got to hold you two just one more time; that I could look into his eyes and let him know I died proud of you.”

“I-I know, but—”

“—But you wanted more.” She pinched my cheek. “Brat.”

“Stop that! Gee…” I pouted. “Even if you’re fake, just… pamper me, dammit! I prefer that.” Mom merely chuckled and, as commanded, retook to brushing my hair. She also kept her silence, and in silence, thoughts swim. I got so much more than I ever thought I’d have when I left home with Father a year ago. Thought we’d struggle, live a humble life. He’d find a woman, marry, and then we’d have more money to our name, and we’d share a comfortable life.

Together.

Then Mom came back, and I wanted her in the picture.

In the end, I sat on a growing wealth and neither of them shared it with me.

“… Guess I don’t find joy in that life,” I answered a question from a few weeks ago with a groan. “Not without you two. Thought I could take on this world you gave me, be cool and be a… protector… I don’t feel like I’m protecting anyone.”

I have Aunn—two of them—, Yuuka-san, the whole of the Moriya Shrine, some Inaba that consider me part of their cloister to an unsettling degree. Sekai is my tree-sister, or something like that. I have friends; I have good money; have a stable job that I’m good at.

I have everything I've ever dreamed of since I was a child.

“Without you, I just feel…”

One word hung true at the roof of my mouth. It drove me into endless hunts, into buying five pairs of working boots, into eating full meals every single day. Dragged me to Father’s doorstep even though I knew meeting him without properly healing—coping with the only feelings I haven’t coped with yet—would’ve ended up in disaster…

And also an admission of defeat to the person who’d nurtured it in mind.

It’s not really her; it’s what my mind wants to see, to feel.

The child wouldn’t have said it, but I’d promised myself the problems of that petulant one were meant only for Mom and Father.

So, I tell my Mom: “… Lost.” Should’ve felt ashamed, stupid. Can’t even navigate this new Gensokyo without making a scene and being a nuisance. “I wake up every day, don’t even think I murdered my sibling; I have money, people who support me… And I’m squandering it all. Did it to Father. That magician said words that should’ve made sense, but they didn’t stick… Am I really an ungrateful person who, no matter what, always wants more?”

A long breath sung beside chimes. I tried craning my neck to look into her eyes.

“Will I always need more from you…?”

I looked up.

Mom wasn’t there. I lie alone on the ethereal porch of the Hakurei Shrine.

“… Even though I don't have you anymore?”

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For how long I laid there I wouldn’t know. Wind chimes rustled their sweet lullaby, and the breeze remained comfortable, nothing like the fever that I’d thought killed me. Hair cascaded down the edge of the porch, birds sang, ants crawled across my midriff. Saying those words… hadn't been as humiliating as I thought it'd have been; maybe because I told them to a figment of my imagination and not Mom? Essentially, I'd talked to myself in this delirious dream.

… What adults do when they want more, but can’t have more?

All I tried didn’t work. I don’t find joy in my good life.

But this place, the creaking floorboards, the magical hum of the Torii Gates, the chimes… Everything that composes the shrine and its every individual component is my place in the world.

No other place I long to be more than at the roots of my lineage.

My fate I took back from Yukari’s cold, dead hands.

Mom's shine, that of a dying star, had blurred it to me, making things less straightforward. Without her, it felt hollow; and without Father, it felt meaningless. Was it truly regrettable that I saw her shine so bright only to fizzle out soon after…? If I hadn’t seen it, I don’t think I’d be in this precarious position with Father.

Memories surged of moments embraced by fire. Red eyes bore into mine; she smiled her last smile, and it was all mine.

One entire wing of Hakurei flames lies folded away in my bloodstream, power hibernating yet mine to call upon at any moment, even if its active state would have me dead.

Father had not seen her shine as I did, and he effortlessly forgot her.

I closed my eyes and exhaled. The relaxation tugged something at the back of my head, like a frail pull.

No answers, no resolutions. Only scattered thoughts that loop me around like a dance. The power to move free and unbounded, and I trap myself in such a bind.

“… Being an adult sucks,” I muttered to myself.

That pull grew exponentially as I simmered in my thoughts, and the floorboards beneath me yawned suddenly. Where’s spring? The chimes and the singing birds? Everything disappeared, and etched to the strained second was pure silence—chills swept my body up and down. Wandering the insides of the Gap, only to pop out months into the future. Time. Another treasure Yukari stole from me—, and then exploded a pain that surrounded me whole, pulsating from the side of my abdomen.

Pain, silence, darkness. All of it condensed.

Only one thing I could do in this situation: “F-Father…” I called him amidst fresh tears.

… Soon came respite. Pain receded like a wounded beast, and with my body not overwhelmed anymore, sensations were picked up. Warm and cozy fluffiness beneath and sprawled upon me; the chill that permeated the air, kept at bay yet ever-threatening. Rough breathing not far to the right.

I’m not dreaming anymore…?

Eyes fluttered open, and I watched the ceiling. At the edge of my vision, I saw gigantic… sunflower heads.

Trying to move, weight and a spiking pain made me hiss. Aunn was asleep on my legs, my torso wrapped in bandages all over, and seals I’d recognize anywhere—

“Sunrise, Parabellum.”

—Body tensed, and I turned to Father. He sat on a chair beside the bed, his eyes drowned in black weariness, his posture lurched over, talisman-clad elbows propped on his thighs, forehead glazed with sweat. A relieved smile set his expression alight. “… How long has it been?” I whispered as to not wake up Aunn, though whimpered as I seated upright and cleaned my tears.

“Does it still hurt?” He asked.

“… It does.”

Without another word, he joined his hands and voicelessly prayed. Confusion died in a mouth hung open as a sapling of golden light, the size of a fiddle, bloomed from my lower abdomen. Most of the leftover pain immediately vanished, and it didn’t even stir Aunn awake. He’d used that magic during the Solstice… A small spot under the talismans of his left arm shone just as gold before it faded away alongside the translucid tree.

Were it not for him folding forward and clasping to his mouth, fighting against gag reflex to keep himself from puking, I'd have allowed myself a ‘wow…’

“F-Father—?” He lifted a hand as a stop sign and kept on his muffled struggle—enough time for our last interaction to return full force to me and burn the skin off my cheeks. Dread pooled inside my belly; hairs stood. Gotta clean up the slate. “… H-Hey, Father, um… I-I want to… apologize for what I said earlier. I was out of my m-mind! Didn’t mean any of tha—”

“—No,” he managed between dizzied sounds, and my words froze in my throat. No…? “It was…” His hand fell from his mouth, the paper stained. How many times had he healed me? “… It was a long time coming, Hana. We allowed ourselves to drift far apart by failing to communicate. I don't like this…” Spine straightened, dreadful anticipation billowed inside me. “Can you walk?”

Space bent, and I stood on my two feet. Aunn’s head rested on the mattress. “… I'm fine!”

Father weakly smiled. “Let's go outside.”

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>>50575133
>>50575129
never using the words “just,” “two” and “weeks” together ever again…
more soon~!
>>50573358
it's okay man, after last year's new year's eve I'm not even surprised anymore

Just
Two
Weeks

I forgive you, Yukari. Even if Anon only gets visitation with Hana in two-week periods, I forgive you. But you did nothing wrong, so I will never forget what you did. It will live in my memory forever.

>>50575620
She's dead bro, you won't get any pussy.

I want Hana's relationship with her father to get WORSE

>>50576389
This, Reimu is no longer here to get in the way of Hana's love. Her true desires can be unleased without consequence.

>>50580074
>Her true desires
A world without pesky hags...

>>50580188
Expedition 33

>>50582057
Hana should wear the golden fitting dress for the cosplay, it would be great.

>>50582057
Make Anon play the piano.

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>>50582327
imagine a battle lengthier than Adachi+Sagiri…

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I saw perfect spring inside that ethereal dream and here, outside, a pale comparison labored against harsh winters. The horizon slowly ate the Sun, thin shine drowned by the breeze, chimes stowed away, birds hidden in the forest of gold-weaved canopy.

This rumbling silence as we left Father’s home for the sunflower fields was charged with… anticipation.

He guided us down the pressed dirt path, which led from his house straight to Yuuka’s cabin. It was about seventy meters into the valley of dirt besieged by walls of large sunflowers that he spoke: “… You doing well back there?” ‘Back there’ comprised five steps behind his stroll. I nodded, and he nodded, his open hands often reaching for the sunflowers, brushing with familiarity. “Every day I make this walk. Not all days I go all the way through, but I like the feeling of… just walking, perhaps?” He briefly paused his words, not his steps, eyes set forward. So he wasn’t gauging for a reaction. I wonder why he paused there. “I recall hating walking when I had those odd jobs hauling stuff, back when we left the shrine together.”

“You were tired every day,” spurred by the memory, I reminisce. “Slept like a rock.”

“Don’t tease; you slept like one too after training at Marisa,” he chuckled, but I didn’t follow, and it took a moment before his laughter died. “… It’s been four years—one for you.” He sighed. “Those years will never come back. Neither the ones I spent with Reimu.”

I stiffen. “… Fath—”

“—Yuuka and I aren’t together,” he cut in, and my eyes bulged. What…? But that homely act, their intimacy! “You had that idea, did you not? That I moved on and got someone else,” regretful words come back to me, and cheeks burn red. “… I know Yuuka likes me that way. She’s a sweet, forward woman. Easy to like. She bears a lot of luggage from the war, but I don’t feel… keen on distancing myself from her. I enjoy that my presence helps her, as hers does the same for me… I like Yuuka, Hana. A lot.” He punctuated words with these insignificant gestures: fingers that’d linger on the crown and petals of a sunflower, full seconds to… understand the texture? With the talisman cladding his hands, two layers thick, I doubt he can interpret touch well.

“I don’t mind if you get together with—”

“—I don’t care if you mind. I would, even if you gave no permission,” composed, soft words, and yet it’s like a beast had bitten me. A moment of silence stretched before he sighed. “… Your words were true, though. I haven’t moved on yet. From Yukari… what we did together in that place,” his words had grown small by the end. I heard each one, chest compressing with pain and regret. But not pity. It was my mistakes that led me to Yukari’s grasp, an eagerness to have something better than scraps.

An eager victim is just another executioner.

Those mistakes are steps in the stairway forward; removing them would’ve made the stairway collapse. The Solstice gave me the final push to step over them, and despite the ache spreading within, I’m glad they belong to the past. “I said those words to… hurt. It was all I wanted at that moment.” I sucked in a breath of fresh air, heart hammering in my chest, aged rage flowing alongside my anguish. “Y-You've hurt Mother’s memory—you’ve been doing so since her funeral… it was a dam I couldn’t hold shut anymore. I-I’m sorry, Father.”

His steps halted, and so did mine. A stilled second elapsed without words or movements. My hands drenched in sweat, feet stirred.

Have to talk to him and make my regret known.

Not his fault. Never his fault.

“I know it’s not rational! I don’t blame you for—for not giving a shit about Mother anymore!” I do. This wouldn’t be happening if I didn’t. Father is turning to look at me. Words hurried. I don’t want to see the hatred in those eyes, the skepticism. “After everything, who’d… care? I-I’m just g-grieving and not coping well! I-I shouldn’t have told you—”

“—Hana,” one word silenced me, and the look in his eyes… It was utterly washed with longing.

Ah, so this is how adults do it…

Suddenly, I felt sober.

“It angers you I don’t keep photos of Reimu, nor offerings to her spirit.”

“… It does.” It hadn’t been a question.

Father didn’t falter. “That I stopped loving her long ago?”

“N-No—”

His tone bore sternness. “Hana.”

“… It does.”

“That though Reimu died for my sake, I’m being ungrateful over her memory? I’d be in Yukari’s clutches all the same if she hadn’t fought to her last breath. Sekai too…” He simply acknowledged.

I nodded.

“That I won’t ever visit the shrine—her grave?”

I nodded, then sniffled.

“… Do you hate me for doing so, Hana?”

Instinctively, I shook my head. Father held his stare and, not a few seconds later, with a downcast look, I said, “… I guess I do.” Not in this lifetime had I imagined saying those words. Felt alien. The steps between us felt like a world.

A great pressure had left my chest.

“I see,” he sighed. Was he… relieved? “Do you think you’ll ever forgive your ungrateful father?”

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Such a weird question. He knows the answer; it shines beautifully in his eyes… But where’s the hatred I’ve pictured since my legs at the eleventh hour of Mother's funeral, palms peppered with small red spots from throwing rice for too long—couldn’t even rub my reddened eyes out of fear a stray grain would get in my eye—; the feverish disdain…?

Under the warm sunlight, a gold just as gold as the thousands of sunflowers that besieged us, none of the awful things I imagined would be there came through.

It didn’t scrub away the pain from telling my Father, the bonfire that's kept me alive for my seventeen years, that I hate him. “… I don’t understand. How can you be so calm about this?”

“I told you it was a long time coming.”

“It doesn’t matter!” I snarled. “These irrational feelings—I shouldn’t—”

“They’re not irrational, Hana,” he shook his head. “I’ve loved you even before you were born, but I knew from the moment I saw Reimu cradle you that I would never be… more than what she is to you.” W-What…?! He smiled faintly at my loss of words. “It was a thought I didn’t really entertain, foolish as it was with how Reimu turned out. But then things changed. In just one hour, she snatched the spot I'd carved in your heart for nearly two decades. She’s your hero now, your role model. I’m just your father.”

“But I love you! That didn’t change…”

“Of course it didn’t; I love you all the same,” he looked away into the fields of dancing sunflowers. “… Do you know what I remember most from the war, Hana?” A rhetorical question, yet he scanned my face for something. Whatever he found, it made his smile wane. “How you fought. You were vicious and precise. Didn’t show a lick of mercy. You didn’t fight like how Marisa taught you, with Danmaku and timing and rules—you fought like Reimu did. It was… extraordinary.” He shuddered. “I’m proud of the woman you are, as was Reimu.”

Ribs cooled, like dunked in a freezing pond. “So you think I don’t… need you anymore? Now that mother ‘r-replaced’ you?” I sneered at how stupid that sounded.

“I think we’re no longer compatible, Hana.”

That culled the sneer. “What…?”

“Those questions I asked, Hana… They’re also meant for me.” He looked straight into my eyes, schooled his features into this impenetrable steel, and then started, “It infuriates me you, somehow, think I forgot Reimu in any capacity. I have her scars all over me; I frequently dream of your Mother—I… I think I’m still attracted to her.” Such words physically made him recoil an inch. “It’s been almost two decades since I stopped loving her, but all it took was one… service of her features, her voice, her closeness to make me yearn for more.”

I blinked, eyes wide as plates.

He didn’t stop.

“Before, I admit I’d have… given in to these feelings. Hung photos, visited her grave with you—but now I can’t help but think… Reimu took away happiness from our marriage; botched fatherhood for me. She destroyed my daughter and then later rebuilt her better than anything I could have ever done, in a fraction of the time. She took away the satisfaction I could’ve had from her death by… returning—far too late… And now, from beyond the grave, she’s taking away my desire to keep going with my life. Your mother was a greedy woman, Hana.”

My heart clenched. How much more would I need from Mother?

She already gave everything, and I keep wanting more.

“I have decided I won’t give her anything else. Not a second of my time, not a chance to hurt me. The last thing she’ll ever get from me is my respect, for, in the end, she… She was someone I could’ve loved again.”

Father could’ve loved Mother again, but he did not.

I love her again; it hurts.

Our paths had wedged apart months ago and only now are things apparent. “… We’re not compatible anymore,” I whispered to him. Didn’t cry, didn’t make a scene or a mess. I understood his words as they came and kept five steps of distance.

The expanse of my heart felt so hollow, legs heavy… but my skin didn’t overheat; my breathing wouldn’t labor despite the thick bandages wrapped around my chest and abdomen. Mother swelled my heart with her mere presence in that dream. Made me parse proper questions whose answers came with Father. He knows how to read me.

It took my Father and Mother to clean the slate.

“… What a shitty adult I am,” I muttered.

“Hm?” He sounded.

“Why did you call yourself ungrateful?” I asked, savoring this pain and how it quelled yet boomed but never overwhelmed. The child is depressed. The adult understands.

“Reimu gave her life for me and saved Sekai,” he mused. “My feelings are selfish—”

“—You gave her the reward she was seeking…” It was Father’s turn to have his jaw slack, eyebrows knit. Wind had been robbed from his sails, and I couldn’t help a smirk. “… She smiled as she died, did she not?”

His confusion morphed entirely into sheer surprise, and my legs felt so weak. It hadn’t been my mind making up a scenario.

It was the truth.

“… Ah, what a greedy woman she was.”

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>>50584806
>>50584803
next batch of chapters will be the last centered around Anohana
more soon~!

>>50584811
It's never over until it's over anohana bros...

>>50585531
>Our paths had wedged apart months ago and only now are things apparent. “… We’re not compatible anymore,”
It's been over before it even started..

That's a way to hurt my feefee.

>“… Ah, what a greedy woman she was.”
Couldn't even give her man a last quicky before dying

>>50580074
>Her true desires can be unleased without consequence
>>50585531
>anohana
W H A T

>>50591058
She'd lost an arm, was stinking of dragon guts, drenched in blood and on fire. The sex would've been miserable.

want Hana's relationship with her father to get WORSE

>>50591238
>The sex would've been immaculate
ftfy

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The Ao3 archive is at 30k hits and a few days ago 150 kudos. Pretty cool milestones right at the end of the project. Gj everybody.

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Which one of us had said those words, I wonder? Had it been me with what I suppose a dorky smile stretching up my face, or had it been Father, his surprise now morphed into a wistful expression that, met with the breeze and the golden light of a setting sun, had looked so beautifully… devoid of weight. Under his eyes sagged dark bags—he looked forward anyway—, a slump remained to his posture—he’s surrounded by these walls of sunflowers, tall and bathing just as he did in the sunlight, feeding.

He’s been fed something nurturing, and the sheer sight made my heart skip, and the heaviness of patched injuries—physical and emotional—wore off.

I don’t think it mattered, as it was a mutual understanding.

Besides, how could I focus on anything but Father as he folded forward just a tad and, from his throat, escaped laughter? My eyes had bulged, fingertips buzzed with the urge to hug him, corners of the mouth hurting from how big this smile I have is…

But the distance I closed not.

Five steps between me and Father as he showed me treasure in its very essence.

… And I didn’t feel bad about that. I absolutely should’ve felt furious at myself. I didn’t embrace him, didn’t share this moment of freedom that came so unbidden to him—I wonder if I understand correctly its source or am wrong—, and I reached to my bandaged chest, palm pressed to the beating drum under. Are you failing though you beat…?

No. It’s not failing. My love for Father and Mother rippled through each blood cell; this settling sadness coursed like a paper boat going down a stream. A most childish and most adult emotion side-by-side, in perfect harmony. Perhaps that’s what brought Father to laughing? Had he also found his harmony—through Mother and me?

I hoped so.

Whatever dwelled in his heart was as personal to him as it was for me to hug Mother as she faded away, leaving to Father the sight of a bountiful smile.

His glee's not meant for me to butt in, but the rapt sight is forever mine.

“… I guess this is it then.” I spoke through a chaste smile as Father’s laughter subsided. “We’re incompatible and hate one another.” Saying such with a smile and a proud heart was a confusing process, yet it felt right to every zap of electricity in my brain. “You asked me whether I could forgive you… Could you ever forgive me? For being a shitty daughter—replacing you so readily?”

He hummed a resigned sound, cleaned a stray tear from his eyes, and said, “It was inevitable. Your home's the shrine, your mother’s arms. It’d never have been your father,” I nodded. He’s correct, as expected from the man who knows me best. “… But it hurts so much more than anything that’s left scars on my body and mind. Not because Reimu took you from me, as I’d thought… You’re the last gift she’s given me, and I can’t help but be so happy and so… pissed off.” He took in a hard breath and said words I branded to my heart. “I’d destroy the perfect gift Reimu left me if we took the same path. Your path is far too high for a simple man like your father to follow you—only when you descend from that peak and meet me down here… will I forgive you for choosing your greedy mother over me.”

Talisman-clad hands had clenched as he declared. More lingered underneath, smothered under the power of Mother and me. He might not be fully human anymore, but he hasn’t changed… After everything, he’s still the kind flame that illuminated my world.

My world is bigger now, and it oft demanded an inferno to have the way forward clear.

The gentle bonfire has no place in a world of massive fires.

Does that mean I’ll ever forget the warmth of the bonfire that guided me through dark days of childhood…?

I smiled, pleased with myself.

No. I won’t ever forget it.

Such rooting feeling fueled my next words, “That works for me, Father…” I kicked a pebble on the ground and culled newborn hesitation with one breath in and one breath out. “… I still perceive my feelings as irrational and unfounded. Can’t do much about the rage and hatred, however. They’ll persist in my heart for as long as it loves Mom.” Eyes met his, and my smile flared. “So let us meet one day, when enough time has passed to heal the wounds, and we are on equal footing. No plateau, no distance… We'll meet in a nice place and forgive each other. There, we’ll merge our paths back again.”

“What place do you envision that happening at?” His smile bore a small grimace, like he had an inkling.

I couldn’t keep the smugness away from my features.

“… Where else but before Mother’s grave? You haven’t thanked her yet for the gift that she gave you~!” despite this cheeky smile, my heart thundered. He grumbled, frustrated, and hope and pragmatism clawed at each other.

The lines of his face remained light, nearly pearled with a smile.

“Ah… should’ve expected this level of greediness from Reimu’s daughter.” He chastised.

Curse me and how I always want more.

It’s who I am.

His eyes came back to me.

My breathing locked tight.

“By her grave… fine.”

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Even a gentle bonfire can kindle a forest fire, and it was that which spread down my ribcage and travelled up my spinal cord. Distilled, pure happiness. I changed his mind; he’ll come to visit Mother’s grave one day, and we’ll be together when it happens. The feelings were so oppressive I could've fainted right here…

… But the temperance of an adult mind, never addled by childish glee, reared its head at his next words: “My home still welcomes you. Whether you just feel like it or want a safe rest… nothing will ever change that, Hana.” He clarified more than he must’ve realized.

That hadn’t been a compromise, visiting Mother’s grave with me… It was a challenge; droplets that fell from the sword and declared war upon the sea, piercing it with its mountains and dry land. Father thinks we’ll never be there together because I’ll fall apart without him raising a finger first. He would be here to catch me and nurture me back into someone he used to know.

It’s not cruel nor evil, this kindness of his, though it is disheartening.

Could I have expected any less? He said he hated Mother, stopped loving her long ago. Something I don’t understand drove him into that fit of laughter, free and unburdened, and I can only picture those feelings remaining unchanged.

Father’ll never be with Mother.

I’ll be buried beside her.

A fleeting smile came to me. Maybe when I'm laid to rest next to her by the pond, he'll visit us, and with him so very close, our family will be complete again.

It’s not an awful prospect.

“Don’t you trust me to climb down the peak without crashing down?”

“… You’re your mother’s daughter,” he said.

“I’m not Reimu Hakurei.”

“You’re not, Hana.” His eyes gleamed at that fact. Does he want to be proved wrong…?

I don’t understand him as well as he understands me.

I’d told Yukari I was better than her, frantic and high on adrenaline. Sometimes, late at night and tossing in bed, I wonder if I could’ve ever said those words to Mother before the HSE.

Eyes closed, and I took a long breath, the unwavering five steps between us not feeling as much of a world of distance as they’d felt. If Father wants to wage this war, then so be it. Either I would fall down spectacularly and find shelter in the warmth of his bonfire, or we would meet as equals before Mother… Ah, from one war to the other.

With little thought, I conclude I prefer this: Yukari’s nowhere to be seen, and the love and pride that fuels it is real—it’s ours.

I took a lot from Mother and Father; was a greedy brat.

Mother gave me guidance—even if it came from an avatar made up from my memories—, and Father gave me a direction, had us have a hard look at our true feelings. Hana Hakurei had been lost on the way for two months; now, she’s vested in beating her father in this war. She’ll take nothing else.

At the end of it all, no matter what, we’ll be together.

Even if I’m buried.

“Guess I should go now,” I said.

Father’s smile faltered, but soon he nodded, eyes letting go of that resignation that cradled there throughout this entire conversation. “Gensokyo needs its protector, I know—just take more care, alright…? Took an entire night for your old man to cure your wounds.”

“It was carelessness from me… But I don’t think I’ll ever repeat that mistake. My mind is much clearer now~!”

“Hm,” he sounded, private to his understanding. “Visit Sekai, please? She's been asking a lot about you. And Sanae, too. Aya…” He grimaced. “Stop being antisocial, Hana! Spend more time with your loved ones!”

His words sparked a thought in my mind: sensei's invite! Whole motive I came here! I’d stored it in my sleeves, which are nowhere to be seen. “I-I forgot it…?” I whispered, face scarlet.

It only worsened as another bout of laughter filled the sunflower fields. “Don’t worry, I got the invitation,” he said as his smile settled into something only halfway genuine. “The rest of your uniform’s washing. Whenever Aunn comes around, I’ll send her with it, alright?”

“Thanks…” the adult didn't let it slide. “Something the matter?”

He shook his head and turned toward the rest of the way leading to Yuuka’s house. “… Next time you see Keine-sensei, tell her she has my permission.”

My look of confusion went ignored.

Sensei should have answers.

He waved his hand and walked away from me.

“I’ll visit the others!” I waved back, smiling weakly. This went better than anything I’d conjured in two months' worth of dread… That didn’t stop the clench of my heart. “Never want to go through the awkwardness that was yesterday again…”

His chuckle echoed as the distance increased.

A farewell without a goodbye.

“See you soon…” I turned then and walked the opposite way of Father, and when yearning overtook me and I glanced over my shoulder, I couldn’t see him any longer.

Emptiness stirred in my chest.

But it didn’t matter.

Father's safe and happy.

When our paths cross again, and our family is complete…

… I wager his smile would be quite as beautiful as it was just now.

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>>50595244
>>50595235
and with this, we've come to a close with Anohana~! It is a good point to end my epilogue, but there are still a few loose threads to knit together that work better than in the next installment, so I'll be seeing to them in a bit
more soon~!
>>50594343
blessed
>>50591058
not only the names, Anohana is mostly about overcoming and moving on from the death of a dear person. It works far too well~

>>50595244
Why is she talking about how beautiful his smile is? That's some Yukari talk if I've ever heard it.

>>50596399
Yukari would seethe the sag out of her tits if Anon ever thought of another woman in her presence.

>Get raped by wife
>luv daughter unconditionally
>Get raped by hag and friends
>luv daughter unconditionally
>Get raped by daughter repeatedly
>luv daughter unconditionally
>Almost become demon from concentrated resentment towards wife and hag abuse
>luv daughter unconditionally
>Don't go to wife's funeral to avoid becoming a demon
>luv daughter unconditionally
>"This is a challenge. Goodbye Father. Visit my grave."
This tracks with Hana's constant need for female validation that led to the birthday crashout but jfc.
>Maybe when I'm laid to rest next to her by the pond, he'll visit us
I'm sure Anon wants to outlive his daughter.

I don't even know how to express this but this way: Anon left the HSE only to enter the world that made the HSE.

>>50600617
The worst thing about this is that Anon knew from the start he lost Hana. He knew what feelings Hana was hiding and instead of cowering and turning a blind eye he did his due diligence as her dad and helped her understand hers and his feelings. He luvs his daughter, of course he helped her when she was down, but what did that get him? Hana saw his kindness as an attack on her ego and is ready to speedrun an early greve. No fucking wonder he went schizo for a bit. Reimu took the daughter he raised with love and care for YEARS and built off it a version of Hana that survived the solstice. He grew Hana, did everything he could.. only for Reimu to swoop in at the eleventh hour and get the laurels. It was inevitable he'd lose her to Reimu, it's inevitable she keeps hunting yoggers and hurting herself, it's inevitable something bad happens in the future, he knows that and all too well and is impotent to do anything about it because Hana is her mother's spitting image and is unreachable when she gets something going in her head. He tried anyway, failed, and got for his efforts an empty promise she'll take better care.
Chen is getting eaten alive, Sekai is his daughter but her mothers fill any role he could've had in her life, Hana won't stop as she lives, Keine is breathing down his neck and to top it all off he's still in love with Reimu...
That demon inside him gotta be looking like Sukuna.

The Solstice has shaped Hana into the belief that you can resolve problems via murder of old women, but now that she's out of old women to murder, all she can do is go in the opposite direction and try killing herself instead.
Maybe if Kasen actually pays attention to what Patchouli said to her, she can actually help a Hakurei for once.
But then again, if Hana had paid attention to what Patchouli said to her, maybe she'd have tried living a life she actually enjoys instead of living a life that kills her in the hopes of it bringing her family back together in the afterlife.
I mean, I can't see Anon being much longer for this world if the two people who put in all that effort to save him from the HSE die before him.

>>50600968
Hana is far too violent to ever enjoy a peaceful life of sweeping the shrine and drinking tea. She likes killing, is good at it and isn't a bit bothered by doing it. The more she's tasted conflict, the more she's enjoyed it.

Nice thread

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Spring pollen wafted from the open windows, and I sneezed despite myself, my posture crabby before I snapped back into place. Didn’t stop Sakuya-san from clicking her tongue, her hands rushing to tuck the blouse’s hem back into the belt—not quite an obi. It was wide, tight, and woven with scarlet linen and gold-trimmed ends—her eyes searching for imperfections before judging me adequate and returning to Auntie Remi’s side, whose delighted laughter from the shade filled the room. “Don’t sulk, child. It’s ruining the floral arrangement,” she mused, dressed similarly to myself, though without ‘sinking low’ enough to braid her pale blue hair into pigtails and draped in a much redder blouse and catrință.

“Can we go back to the cheongsam?” I mumbled, patting the top of my head. No hat…

“Did you not moan about it being too windy and too restrictive? Aprons cover both such bases,” she said, eyes roaming to a table full of loose clothing articles and accessories, from these gold-plated bracelets to tender flowers with pins. Most I’d tried on already. “If I recall, you did also moan about the kimono having your nape exposed and chilly, then about how the ‘pompous’ dress’ corset irritated your lungs, and then—” Auntie Remilia sighed and got up, her wings stretching briefly as she stalked in the shade to the nearest standing mirror. Only her clothes appeared, puppeteered by a ghost as she scrutinized the scarlet embroideries on her dark linen sleeves. “You reinforce the stereotype of the divine being too vain.” She hummed.

Sakuya-san placed a palm to her mouth, and I grew red in the face. “I mean, I like everything—it’s Kurodani-made… But I’ve never used refined clothes. Even when I was just a drop of spiritual energy, the shirt and skirt combo seemed ideal.” Auntie Remi shook her head and motioned for me to approach. I giggled at the image of lifelike clothes moving around me in the mirror before I lowered myself onto a stool that’d magically appeared—I should look for time-stop catalysts. The threads of the HSE itself had worked before, but outside it, the manipulation demands something… sentimental, maybe—, the vampire’s hands resting on my shoulders after gesturing for Sakuya-san to leave. We two remained in the room.

“Your hot-headed mother would have me impaled were I to have you attend a wedding dressed in rags and barefoot.” She fetched a box of ribbons, adjusted hazelnut twin pigtails, and tested in thought how to proceed. I nodded to an alternating style of deep purple and red ribbons. “Besides, culture is a layer of the lens through which you see the world. Most unsurprisingly, mine suits you rather well, Sekai~” In the penumbra, Auntie Remilia began carefully planting ribbons to my braids and around my head, as if building a frame. Her digits worked with the fluidity of the aqueduct and, for a long moment, the sight in the mirror hypnotized me, mouth a centimeter agape and hands resting on the front apron. A glass of cold water sat next to the standing mirror and beside it, a stack of pale pills and a yet-to-be-used inhaler.

Culture, a layer of the lens through which one sees the world…

“… I have little of such to my name, Auntie…” I mumbled. A mishmash of moments echoed in time, clustered within faulty magic and given life through uncharted rituals yet done by limited souls gifted with limitless willpower. Alive but without formative years; six years of age—a thousand experienced.

“Culture, you say?” I nodded. “That’s expected, but easily remediable—say, the one Christmas you've experienced in your life.” She turned my head to the left and then to the right, tapped her chin with a dainty gloved hand, and then started assembling a wreath from a basket of flowers. “You are not Christian, Protestant, or Orthodox… did that compute when you digested the spirit of the celebration? When you and your little friends had so much fun, Sakuya had to threaten you lot so you wouldn’t climb the Christmas tree? Or when you stuffed yourself unconscious into next day, resulting in you not helping in the clean-up process~?”

I was forced to look into the blushing mess reflected in the mirror. “S-Sorry…”

“Don’t be,” she tittered. “This your first wedding, but not the last. When the day for you to marry comes, that culture you experienced will embrace you too as your Father shepherds you up the steps, and you don white silk. Patchy and Meiling would be there also, as would I and any other guests you wish to witness you engage—you’re part of this world now and will herald your knowledge into the next inquisitive one,” she stepped back to admire her work.

A wreath of purple and red flowers crowned my head, and ribbons of those same hues spread throughout, going down to the tips of the pigtails.

… I felt adorable.

“That’s how culture survives.” She patted my head, her face suddenly overtaken by a dangerous mirth. “… It's only natural one like me teaches the new generations of Gensokyo how things were done in the past~”

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>>50605352
only one today, starting our last epilogue segment with our last protagonist from the “golden”
generation~
more soon!

Such rooting feeling fueled my next words, “That works for me, Father…” I kicked a pebble on the ground and culled newborn hesitation with one breath in and one breath out. “… I still perceive my feelings as irrational and unfounded.

>>50605352
At least someone is having a good time..

>>50609490
Oh yeah, culling newborns, I like it. Let's kill some babies!
>t. Keine>>50605355

>>50609868
Yeah. Me

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Sorry archiveanon for being 13 days late I did the thing.

Genuinely surpised the V-Day special archive is nearly at 1k hits and still has that one zoomer comment. I guess high school love triangles always sell.

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>>50612120
I apologize if my British Sign Language isn't that great.

>>50612120
>Limbus Company Zoomer
Worse than a normal Zoomer.

I want Hana's relationship with her father to get WORSE

>>50609978
Keine didn't
>directly killed a child
>intentionally hurt a child
>blame children for hating her during the pariah arc
>ate or threatened to eat a baby
>stab a kid with a sword
Keine did
>gave her life for her babies
>spearheaded nazism so children wouldn't be thrown from nests or starve ever again
>rewrote the future so a babyeater would literally get stomped to death
>exorcized the Hakurei autism from bebes
Yukarist propaganda is sad! Gensokyo will be great again.

>>50573150
2 more days

Can't wait for it.

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>>50615137
it do be like that…

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Where snow once pressed down now were flowers, sprawling, and full trees. Bumblebees and birds, hawks and the crystalline flow of water down the river; the sounds of the path leading from the Misty Lake to the village. A path laid with cobblestone, which betrayed osmotic memories of a path barren and besieged with thick and tall trees, not the unlit lampposts that surround the orderly pavement. From this distant path, Youkai Mountain’s imposing wound was visible to all, though the trees and vegetation were swift to mostly hide it with the bloom of spring… and hard-working Tengu hands. A wound like that is a severe blow to the preening crows’ egos. The sight beyond the thinned treeline welled guilt in my belly, which Auntie noticed. Her brow creased and gaze moved from Sakuya-san holding the open parasol above her head and three elegantly wrapped presents to me. “Is all the pollen irritating your lungs, sweetheart?” She asked, hand reassuringly squeezing mine.

“Aaaah? Sekai’s feeling weak again?” Flan-chan moaned from up ahead, deep purple eyes—True Mother’s eyes. I avoided with trained ease staring into them—widening in disbelief, the vampire spinning the handle of her umbrella like a top. “Sekai-chan, aren’t you supposed to be a goddess?”

Grasping firmly to the present I was carrying, I pouted. That was mean of her! But before I could colorfully answer, Auntie butted in. “She’s a flower before her bloom, Sister. When she’s amassed enough faith, Gensokyo will buckle to its knees.” Though jokingly said, it wasn’t a cherished thought.

I didn’t choose to be born like this to rule Gensokyo.

“Just don’t take too long,” Flan-chan grumbled, her eyes again on the path. If flying now didn't mean her umbrella crumpling and the sun cooking her up, she'd probably have sprinted ahead without an ounce of care.

Auntie ignored her and pressed her free hand to her chin. “So? What’s bothering you, Sekai?” A smile deeply entrenched into my soul met her beckoning words. Much like the scar carved into Youkai Mountain and Flan-chan’s enchanting purple eyes, this smile is a relic from Yukari Yakumo—it's mine now.

“Nothing to worry about. I had an echo,” I said.

“So you had, indeed,” she nodded. This isn't the first time I’ve used this excuse and though it’s often true, this time it was a lie. “What was this one about? Or perhaps you’d wish to keep it close to your dear heart?”

“Um… it was from a man, long ago. He was carrying an injured person on his back,” I frowned, effortlessly lying through my teeth. “It felt quite distilled, so I don’t think it’s an echo of whoever experienced it; maybe they heard a recounting of the story.” Such a memory came to me a few weeks ago. Something about it had struck a match of deep sadness, so the source of it must’ve been saddened when remembering it—I wonder whose memory it was.

Echoes, faint and blurry, never carry with them the original ego.

They should’ve; Mother Patchouli was exhaustively thorough when recreating the cosmologic ethos of my soul… but then True Mother and Reimu-san cut down my tree mid-transfer.

A lot was lost that I’ll never recover.

Muffled celebrations carry in the wind, ahead and growing, though it’s Auntie’s words that relieve me of thought. “Did the injured one survive?” She inquired.

“I don’t know. But it’s recent and bursting with sadness, so… he's likely dead.”

“Fickle are the lives of humans,” she said, eyes moving to the brightened end of the path, where trees hogged sunlight and bubbled the exit with white shine. Flan-chan had sped down the path, partnered with infectious laughter. My palms sweat, and Auntie answered in kind, her clawless hand holding firm to mine. “They are brought to us and then taken away in just a hundred years.” Sakuya-san shifted slightly but, apart from that, showed nothing. “… No wonder their festivals are so grand and their parties so astounding. Hm…” She paused, then: “I doubt Patchy has put you to such tutoring, but have you ever heard of King Ashurnasirpal—2nd—, Sekai?”

We crossed the threshold; my eyes narrowed at the blinding light. “No…?”

“An Assyrian king, he threw a party where sixty-five thousand were fed for ten days; during a time a man’s life was worth two cows—sometimes, less.” I could only pay half a mind to what Auntie was saying. The obfuscating light dwindled, and before me stretched the whole of Akyuu’s Village, which had grown to twice its size. The scars left by the HSE were buried under rising buildings and the cresting stump of my tree; humans, some scattered across Gensokyo, converged one and all here, a coliseum ablaze with voice, music, food and distant dance. Confetti, banners, handmade lanterns and…

So much to take in, it felt overwhelming.

A pond to the sea, this and the Christmas party.

“And you know why he did it, sweetheart?” Auntie seemed unfazed.

“… Why?” I cooed.

“Because no man wants to be forgotten,” she chuckled. “Chin up, child! That soul must be grateful that you remember them.”

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Often I wish I hadn’t forbidden myself from mind-reading abilities because then the news we’d be splitting up wouldn’t have come as such a surprise. Sakuya-san swiftly freed me from carrying my present around—a handcrafted tea brick Mother Meiling got me from the temple—; Flan-chan had long wandered after a papier-mâché rainbow-scaled dragon prowling the streets followed by an entourage of children, the jewels of her thin wings shining as they reflected light. Auntie gave me strict orders to Gap away from festivities if I ever feel out of breath or lightheaded, said, “Go be a child and have fun,” and then just… walked off towards the towering stump of my tree, bound for the palace through the elevator systems assembled during winter, saying she and Sakuya-san were to greet the pairs marrying tonight.

… I never tire of watching what remains of Yggdrasil from the village. From the Scarlet Devil Mansion or even the path from the Misty Lake, it is wide and imposing; but from beneath, my snobby shoes polished to perfection by Sakuya-san against cobblestones, surrounded by people that come and go and stores and stalls and known and unknown faces, confetti raining and music and the constant chatter between humans and Youkai, echoes of times things didn’t look like the writhing imagery in the back of my mind…

It lacks the proper word for the sheer grandeur it embodies.

Decided, I follow its shadow cast upon the village's ways from where I and the others split up. A shared sentiment. Eyes found Tengu and Tsuchigumo, grinning humans and dumbfounded humans, all of whom looked already drunk, even with the sun yet to go to sleep, and talk of a parade soon to happen, Ō-iri, mixed with the sizzling of food and trading of money. I bought different foodstuffs with the humble sum Mother Patchy allowed me to carry, and though I’d meant to buy a bottle of soju—just to taste—the twin men running the Izakaya refused me and threatened to call my parents. I also engaged in games…

… Which I regret.

“Whoever pops the most balloons wins a stuffed toy!” The woman running the stall, a blue and gentle mermaid perched on the edge of the pool hidden behind the counter of the stall, swept her gaze along me and three other eager kids before pointing at the rough-looking balloons by the far wall, each painted with an, um… Not very accurate rendition of True Mother’s face. Chunky lips, hair frizzled where it should’ve been elegant, derpy eyes. I cringed.

The other kids didn’t, and they cheered, their tabs already paid.

Their parents were nearby, a human couple and a couple made from a shaky dude and a mean-eyed white wolf Tengu lady. This odd, tourney-like tension crackled between the mothers, and I couldn’t help but feel much of an odd one out.

Mother Patchouli and Meiling need healing, not a bothersome me.

As we lined up and were given five soggy darts each, I looked at the shoddy balloons and, embarrassed, mumbled under my breath. “Sorry, mum…”

“Ready, set…” The mermaid’s tail splashed once, twice, and at the third, she joyously yelled. “… Go!”

Auntie Remilia told me to have fun.

—

Cradling my stuffed… thing, I idly followed a tour of the village's new sights. Some memories not mine stirred as echoes, frayed at the seams and thus void of personality—missing, but it never mattered much to me. If my tree was the center of the universe, its destruction meant first the loss of planets and asteroids and stardust. Stars, black holes persisted. Most souls of weight did—and conflicted with what spread before me. A village without an ode to genocide, without a garden risen from the dead… Without the HSE and my tree. I ignored them and rather focused on the blue stuffed 'animal' I'd won. Its elongated body felt like dough, and its face was simple and smug. Twinned horns sprung from its head.

That mermaid never told me what this thing is.

… What should I call it, I wonder?

I looked away and around, searching for inspiration. This close to the stump of my tree, a long shadow was cast and promptly warded off by the soft glimmer the wood emitted, yet to start decaying. Eyes wandered over posters tacked to walls of businesses and homes, to people who thought they were inconspicuously kissing in alleyways—

—To a moving paper square.

It locked ‘eyes’ with me and promptly approached and jumped on my teddy’s head. “What th—?”

With what seemed like boastfulness, it pointed at itself with one arm—its left upper edge—and stuffed its chest so I could better read its contents:

AID THE CHILDREN OF THE HSE

DONATE, OFFER YOUR TIME. ANY HELP IS WELCOME

FOR INFORMATION ON HOW TO LEND HELP…

A faint trace of magic echoed from the living paper, resembling Father Goro's. Though… it was off.

Not a grudge.

The prideful paper, however, disregarded me and moved onto the next person before I could fully read it. Had it sensed I wasn’t really absorbing its message?

“Oi, everyone!” An excited voice rang from up the street. “The parade’s about to start!”

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>>50618863
>>50618862
swear I haven't forgotten Koa…
In the next batch we get to the meat of Sekai's segment, starting next thread since the two weeks backfired - even forgot more last time, truthfully a terrible curse…
more soon~!

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>>50618863
>I’d meant to buy a bottle of soju—just to taste
Someone is in dire need of correction.