To say the trip we took to the meditation hall was awkward would be giving it too much credit. Nazrin and I stayed silent, walking as if we were treading on needles the whole time. Byakuren lead, stopping either of us from seeing her face, but the slump in her shoulders spoke volumes. I had never seen her look so downtrod before in all the time I'd known her, and from the look of her face neither did Nazrin.
Ichirin and Murasa (now back in her physical body) were sitting patiently as we entered the hall. Both of them turned to Byakuren with comforting faces, which on the captain seemed almost alien.
"You okay, Hijiri? You look like you're-"
Murasa's words came to a halt as Byakuren entered the room completely. To be more precise, it was at the sight of the two girls following her.
"...Hey. I thought you said we were gonna keep them out of this?"
Byakuren was silent for a moment. I could see her hands trembling slightly at her sides.
"I underestimated their curiosity, Murasa. Now we may as well tell them everything."
Murasa's eyes widened in surprise, and she turned to us. I was hardly willing to return her glare - I was embarrassed at how I'd made Byakuren cry, for what had seemingly been the first time.
It would turn out that the Byakuren I knew was a lot stronger and resolute than the real one.
"...Shou, Nazrin. I ask that you at least listen to my story in its entirety before you begin to judge. It may seem absurd at times, but I ask that you please give me a chance to explain myself."
I had never heard such a desperate tone in her voice before, and she still couldn't bring herself to face me. It hurt me to see her like this.
So I came up from behind and wrapped my arms around her.
"Ah-"
"Don't be an idiot, Hijiri. I know you wouldn't hurt a fly."
The tension in Byakuren's body faded as she let out a heaving sigh. For a moment, I thought that my sentiment had managed to calm her.
Then the nerves returned, worse than ever.
"Except that's the problem, Shou. You don't know me. Not at all."
---
"As I said before, my brother was a monk by the name of Myouren Hijiri. He was younger than me, and as he was a man he was ordinated while I was not. There were particularly strict rules about gender at the time, you see - it was believed enlightenment could only be reached by men, and that being born as a woman was a sign of bad karma. But I digress.
I accepted for many years that I would never see my brother again, but as my mother and father passed away I found myself painfully lonely. We lived too far from any village or town for me to have met any children my own age, and I was uneducated once again as a result of my gender. What I did know of Buddhism I learned from what my brother had left behind before his ordination. So I instead visited the monastery where Myouren resided, only to be told that he had left to build his own monastery somewhere in the mountains.
I was devastated - my dear brother, the only family I had left, gone to be a wandering hermit? For some time I was inconsolable, and the monks were generous enough to offer me a bed for the night. It was then that I had the vision that was recorded in the scriptures - a purple cloud hanging over a nearby mountain, and beneath it the face of Myouren smiling at me. I woke up in a cold sweat, fear and elation coming on me in unison. That morning I made my way to the mountain in my dreams, and as the dream had foretold I found my brother there, surrounded by planks of wood and construction tools.
It was a wonderful feeling when he saw me, turned away from his business and wrapped his arms around me. My brother's soul was strong, much stronger than mine, and he took the death of our parents with almost no regret. 'It is a fact of life,' he told me, 'that one day all things must die.' I remember nodding along with him back them, but deep down I was unconvinced by his words. Death seemed frightening, ominous - the idea of a great unknown that none of us could escape. I never voiced these fear to Myouren - it would seem weak and offensive to disagree with him when he was far more accomplished than I in his teachings."
She told the story with a surprising amount of fluency. Clearly this wasn't the first time it had been passed on. She had yet to touch on the real question, though - wasn't that story written hundreds of years ago?
"He had been in the middle of building what he called the Tobikura, or the Soaring Vault. It was intended as a place where he could both store offerings and reside in himself. At my arrival, though, he changed his design significantly in order to make room for me. My brother was very considerate.
His magical power was immense as well. When he called it the Soaring Vault, it was not a metaphor - he literally had the power to send it flying into the air at his will. Just by being near power of that magnitude, I gained some strength myself. He trained me in the ways of the monk, regardless of my supposed inability to attain enlightenment. I never matched his sheer power, though, and had to be content with being able to moving around pots and pans.
And so, that was our life. Myouren would move the Tobikura from place to place, visiting towns and accepting offerings. He only ever took as much as he needed, though, and gave to me everything else that we received. Because I didn't qualify as a monk I wasn't held to the same restrictions he was, he wouls say to justify it. He was generous like that. Perhaps...a little too generous, even."
She paused for the briefest of moments. Her hands clunched to fists as they hung on her lap.
"I had seen it. He grew thinner and thinner with each passing day, and I begged him to accept some of my own helpings for his own sake. Each and every time he would refuse me, holding to his vows to never take in more than he thought necessary. I could see his face growing pale, his skin losing its colour, his eyes losing their light, but he refused to accept any help. He wouldn't even request anything of a doctor. He would simply look at me, smile with all his heart, and say 'My time will come when it comes.'
I...I trusted him. He was Myouren, my brother. He was more powerful than I was, by some margin. I had hoped that I was simply being paranoid, that I loved my brother so much that his loss could bring about such an unjustified fear.
So every night, I would murmur it in my sleep, as if to make my hopes a reality. 'Myouren will be alright. Myouren will be alright.' Over and over until fatigue claimed me. For a few months, it seemed to work."
Another silence, longer this time. Byakuren's head slunk down, and little drops of water landed on her hands.
"...One night, Myouren was moving the Tobikura across the province in the middle of night. He had done it several times before, but something caught in my throat as I tried to sleep. I can't describe it in words. Perhaps it was a premonition, or an omen, or simply unease. Whatever it was, it kept me awake long into the night.
Beneath me, the Tobikura rocked violently, sending me tumbling out of bed. I was uninjured, save a few scrapes and bruises, but it was a clear sign that something was very wrong. Myouren could pilot the Tobikura with his eyes closed - he'd never made a mistake like that before. As I ran towards his quarters - a tiny, featureless room even more basic than my own - I could feel a lightness in my stomach that I wrote off as the giddiness of adrenaline..."
Byakuren's head rose up slightly, but she never stopped to look at me or Nazrin. Her eyes turned away, looking up into the distance blankly. Words would slip out of her mouth, but they no longer seemed intentional - she was lost in her own world at the moment, lost in reminiscence. She wasn't just remembering what had happened.
She was living it all over again.
---
"M-Myouren!"
Things are falling. All around me. Tomes, bracelets, what little cutlery we have, everything. The Tobikura itself is shaking as if within a quake. This has never happened before, not with Myouren - he is too skilled, too talented to move it so haphazardly. My stomach gets lighter and lighter as I make it to his quarters and open the door.
Immediately I assume the worst. My fears of so long are coming true after all - my brother is dead, leaving me all alone just like I feared he would. My eyes instinctively close themselves, refusing to look in case I'm right. I freeze, too frightened to make a step into the room or look within.
"..Bya...Byakuren...?"
A voice. Myouren. Weak. But I don't care. A voice means he's alive. I step in entirely, looking at him, still managing to maintain his meditation stance. He is a sorry state - months of malnourishment have ravaged him, and his robes now seem almost too large to fit him. He turns to me with a weary twist of his neck. His eyes are dull, almost lifeless.
Immediately I wrap my arms around him, digging my head into his shoulder.
"You're alright...I was so worried, with all the crashing and..."
A sharp exhale pushed its way out of his nose. Myouren shared none of my relief, his eyes looking downward.
"Byakuren. I must apologise to you. It seems your concerns were right after all."
"...Eh?"
He couldn't have said that. He didn't say that. Please, please, tell me he didn't say that.
"I am weaker than I had thought myself to be. My magic has weakened as well, and now it seems even the tasks I thought meagre are beyond me."
The lightness in my stomach heightens. Moreso because it now dawns on me that it is not simply fear alone that is causing it.
"Then...you mean..."
He manages a nod.
"Yes. The Tobikura is falling out of the sky."
My mind goes blank for an instant. I can't understand this. This isn't happening.
"C...Can you stop it?"
He shakes his head. The guilt is plain to see on his face.
"I have no power to stop it. All we can do is brace ourselves for the crash."
Brace ourselves? How? We're in a flying building that's falling to the ground at near terminal velocity. No-one can survive a crash like this, surely?!
Myouren sees my face, wrought with horror. He manages to make his usual stern face.
"There is...one teaching. One...spell. You should be advanced enough to perform it now, and it will save you."
I do not question his words. Even if he was a witch doctor, I would not question them. Because to accept them as wrong would be to consign myself to death.
Death. The scriptures say it is inevitable. Part of samsara. Part of the great cycle. But how can it be so natural if it is so painful? So tragic? If death is acceptable, why did I weep over my fallen mother and father? Why, then, does even the thought of losing Myouren chill my blood?
Am I simply too weak to-
"Byakuren, focus. You don't have long."
Myouren knocks me out of my delirium.
"Y-Yes!"
I fall to my knees in front of him, matching his posture. He is slumped, too tired to sit upright, but I copy him anyway. I see something resembling a smile on his face for a moment.
"Good. Now, repeat after me."
He closes his eyes, a dull purple aura rising from him.
"The mind is everything. What I think, I become."
"T-The mind is everything. What I think, I become."
I stutter on my words in fear, feeling a like-coloured aura build around myself. If I fail to keep my mind clear, I will die for certain. How am I supposed to stay calm when my own life is at stake?
"I am a mountain, still and unfazed by the coming wind. Whatever challenge arises, I shall not be broken down."
"I am a mountain, still and unfazed by the coming wind. Whatever challenge arises, I shall not be broken down..."
I can feel a new energy surging through me. The magic I had built up over time thanks to overexposure to the Tobikura is manifesting itself as physical strength. Already I have no doubt I am more powerful than the strongest warrior on the ground below.
And as I think that, instantly the spell fades.
"Ah?!"
The aura shorts out around me, and my body weakens again. These powers are not granted to one of an impure mind, and my ego was enough to deem me unworthy. Another violent shake of the Tobikura knocks me out of my stance, and my focus is lost.
No. No no no no no. I don't want to die, not yet, I'm so young and I haven't reached enlightenment and I can't leave Myouren alone and it'll hurt it'll hurt it'll hurt-
A hand rests itself on my shoulder.
"Relax, Byakuren."
I don't realise I'm crying until I turn to Myouren and see him as a blurred mess. I wipe my eyes, seeing the aura around him fading as well.
I feel stronger.
He isn't. He isn't.
"I don't want you to die here if you are still afraid, Byakuren. This is all I can offer you."
He is.
"I am ill, Byakuren. Even if I survive this, I have perhaps a few months left in me. Better that you survive than I do."
His body almost seems to be withering as the aura leaves him and enters my body. He smiles to me.
No. Why is he smiling? He's going to die now. When the Tobikura crashes it's going to kill him. How can he be happy?!
"No...Myouren, don't do this..."
I try to call to him, but my voice is weak. I barely manage to croak out the words, but he keeps smiling anyway.
"Do not cry for me, Byakuren. My time has come. I wish for your happiness in the future."
Why is he doing this? I can't stand it. I can't stand that smile of his, so sincere and honest even when death's staring him in the face. Why isn't he scared like I would be in this situation? This isn't happening. It's all just a nightmare and I'm going to wake up and Myouren will be right next to me and he'll tell me it's all perfectly fine.
"Myouren, please! Please, don't! Don't leave me alone like this! I lo-"
A deafening sound. An entire vault of wood collides with the ground with tremendous force. I lose him as the world falls into a million pieces around me.
It hurts. Even if I am strong enough to survive it, it is still painful. I feel my body slam into the ground, bouncing once before sliding along. Battered planks of the Tobikura fly along with me, some of them colliding with me as they fall. I can hear the bones in my arms and legs snapping, and the heat from the friction burns at my clothes until they fall away.
After what feels like an eternity, I come to a stop. I am still in agony, but I am alive. I cannot move, but already my bones are knitting themselves back together. I will survive, though it will take a while to recover.
My hand is lying on something. I pull my head up, and make out that it is roughly the shape of a person. He is stripped bare, with only tatters of the orange robes he had worn remaining. I am touching his chest, pressing down on it.
I feel no heartbeat.
"A-Ah...aah..."
The pain is immaterial now. My throat aches as I moan, but I cannot stop it. Tears stream down my face freely as I try in vain to move my hands to embrace the fallen monk. My arms are still limp, and my body has reached its limit - all the effort does is drive me closer into unconsciousness.
Two final thoughts run through my mind before I pass out. Firstly, that my brother is dead.
Secondly, that I am now completely and utterly alone in the world.