Umeko takes a deep breath, cocking her head back in time to absorb the sight of fluffy clouds unscathed by her tragedy, and all others' just below.
Hearing her father's wise voice in her mind, Dad always said, "Pain is life's way of reminding you to take time to heal. You'll get better at dealing with what hurt you so it doesn't happen again and again. Otherwise, it'll kill you if you don't learn something new."
Shaking her head, pressing her fingers into the soft dirt concealing his dead body, "But. . .I don't want this pain, dad."
The slick weight of tears gather on the inside corners of her eyes, preparing a journey down her nose, "It hurts too much!"
How can I heal from something that makes it hard to breathe? I don't want to learn about new people. I want you (all) back!
Burying her face into her hands, flinching upon remembrance of her makeup, Umeko wipes her under eyes, from nose to temples.
Feeling the wind stroke her face with a tender, reassuring gust, she notices her cheeks feel wetter than the amount of tears she thought she let slip by.
Dabbing her handkerchief gently over painted skin around an anguished stare directed at her father's headstone, she mumbles, "Why'd I need to lose it all?"
Bunching raised eyebrows, staring up at the sky questioning the souls of everyone she loved, "Why'd I get left behind?!"
I don't have anything to go back to anymore. . .what's the point of traveling and learning and growing when I've got no one to share it with when I come home?
Fighting a sorrowful frown with enough effort to wrinkle her forehead, she swallows hard enough to interrupt a sob from echoing out her throat.
I'm better off dead.
Hanging her head, Umeko presses the cloth to her right cheek to suppress the wave unleashing from only her right eye.
How can Izanagi just sit up there, putting us through so many things we can't handle and do nothing about it?!
"I could really use some of your wisdom, Trimūrti," Umeko speaks to the gods of her mother's land while searching the serene blue seas above.
Hoping to hear even a whisper of their insight on the wind after a long silence of puffy clouds lulling by, Umeko sighs.
Raising an eyebrow, wondering if they refuse to help her because she already asked grandma's gods to watch over her, "You've been awfully quiet," guilt sets in.
Placing her hands on her thighs, deciding that sometimes silence is the best answer, she waits harder for the consistent lack of signs from the gods she's believed in for as long as she can remember.
Laughing quietly at herself for asking the gods of far away lands for wisdom when she lives in the land that Lord Tsukiyomi no Mikoto himself walks upon, she raises her eyebrows with a forced optimism and strained grin, "I can't look at things like that. . ."
Umeko soon closes her eyes with her nose in the air, breathing in deep when a tiny swirl of wind brushes her cheek.
A broken smile spreads across pink-painted lips at the reminiscence of her father's hand wiping away her tears every time she came home after defending herself for being different.
But this time, there's nowhere for her to return to where her dad can teach her how to get stronger, reminding her to fight harder in the ways that only a dad can.
I know they're in a better place. And they'd want me to go on and do stuff they didn't get to. Plus, they have no pain. . .no sickness. . .no fighting. . .
Gulping quietly in an outward whisper, "No me."
Stiffening, struggling to breathe with eyes as wide as lily pads, "At least if Ryu wins," finding it difficult to say anymore out loud, her thoughts turn down a more cynical path.
At least no one I care about'll be around for that horror. FUCK! Why'd ya have'ta leave me alone like this, ma?!
"Grrrr," growling at herself before she succumbs to the sourness invading her forced-on optimistic perspective, "No."
Umeko pounds her right thigh with the side of her right, handkerchief-filled fist.
She wanted me to live. And Tsukiyomi didn't turn his back on me. For whatever reason, I need to keep going!
Balling her fist in front of her chest with conviction, "I must see this stupid, scary shit through to the end. Why else would I be here and not them?"
Nodding confidently, "I will be strong," her face goes blank as her head gently lowers to line her sight with the way her knees dig into dusty, brown soil.
If not for me. . .then for everything everyone has done to help me get to where I am because I could be in WAY worse shape.
Tears drip from her nose and splashes on her thumb; fumbling with the handkerchief in both hands, she leaves her tears undisturbed.
I owe them. . .her (mom). . .even if I don't want to have to be the survivor in all this.
After a long goodbye and many challenging thoughts through depression, anger, bargaining, denial, acceptance, apologies, and laughs, "I should go. . ."
Umeko groans herself back to life before shaking her entire body.
The stinging numbness prickling through sleeping legs awakens throbs when the blood pumps its full return to all her straightened limbs, "I'll come back as soon as I can."
Blinking hard, raising her left index finger into the air, "But, if you've been watching, you know I don't even know how long that'll be."
Chortling sarcastically, "If ever again."
Shaking off the doubts and fears threatening to ruin her moment of solace, she kisses her fingertips then touches the ground.
Shaking her head with an awkward smile, "I miss you all so much more today than I did yesterday."
The eighteen year old girl proceeds to kiss each flower with a good-bye before laying one on every grave; making her way through the entire lot, Umeko finally stands at the edge of the fresh burial site.
Bowing her head to the souls that once made up Sankan no Machi, she prays for them to find peace, healing, and protection on their next life's journeys.
Upon completion, she grips the remaining flowers in hand.
Directing her attention to Sanemaru, she heads straight over to him before burying her forehead into his back. Holding still for a while, he lets her use him as a headrest.
Languidly rolling his shoulders until she lifts her head, "Ready?"
Glancing back at her from over his shoulder, she wraps her arms around the front of his chiseled, sweltering waist; cupping her own wrist in her empty hand to hold onto him, she rests the side of her face against his clothed, muscular spine.
I need to feel something. Anything. There's no point in living if I'm going to stay this empty until I die-- numbness is so much harder than pain. . .
Sniffling, nestling her forehead into the back of his shoulder, "I've got one more thing to do."
Releasing him with a grumble, determination floods her face.
Approaching the hut with an authoritative, awkward stomp in her wooden heels, she throws the last of the flowers at its doorstep, "I wish you the best in this life and the next."
Her voice echoes as the flowers hit the ground and spread out; movement remains undetected from within the windowless shack.
Sighing at the missed opportunity for anyone other than Nobu to exit in hopes of understanding or reconciliation, she turns her back to them and walks away for the final time.
Guess they really weren't my friends. . .
Returning to Sanemaru, he proudly reveals his true self with a large gust of wind and sky shaking neigh as she arrives at his side.
Excitedly trotting in place as if putting on a show, he shakes his head; the steed's bright, fiery mohawk of kinky curls bounces down the back of his neck.
Umeko's lips turn halfway into a grimacing smile the moment his enthusiastic energy rubs off on her.
Nobu's lucky he didn't kill him after saying so many nasty things. Yokai and humans seem to have a lot more in common than I was ever led to believe.
Bowing so Umeko can mount him, she prepares herself for the future as the last place she called home shrinks in the distance behind them.
They return to Lord Tsukiyomi's garden and once she jumps from his back into grassy, stream filled plains, he transforms into his humanoid self with black horse ears and a braided, red-orange-yellow tail.
Lost in thought, she stares blankly at the early evening sky.
I wonder if I'll get to see Tsukiyomi before the sun goes all the way down. . .
Sanemaru's right hand lands on her lower back's bow as he steps up beside her, "Ume, you alright?"
"Hm? Oh," slowly facing him with a reassuring smile, "Sorry, Sane, my mind flew."
Accusing softly, "Looks like more than that to me," he guides his hand up her back and a shiver sneaks under the weight of his palm.
That feels nice but. . . WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS TOUCHING ME?! Don't you know how weak I am?!
Suddenly bringing his face close enough to hers to brush cheeks, "Do I excite you?" his warm breath tickles her ear.
Umeko retracts slightly, staring over his face as heat begins to course through her veins.
Can't deny you're a total stallion. But, you lost tiles with that freak-out earlier, champ.
Whispering sultrily as he expertly guides her in front of him, resting large hands on her hips, "You excite me," he presses into her.
Read the land, horse-man! I don't have time for this.
Sanemaru grins when she places her hands on top of his.
Grabbing his hands to lift them away as she steps away and faces him straight on. Exhausted with sadness in her voice as her left temple throbs with annoyance, "Today was. . ."
Gazing sideways from his stunned expression, his hands falling to his sides steals her attention. Locking vulnerable, cocoa truffles onto his stormy gaze, ". . .really long," Umeko turns her lips in against her teeth.
With her words of rejection visibly striking disappointment across his face, he quickly recovers.
Ears twitching with a gleeful nod, "Yeah, you're right!"
Clearing his throat and patting the top of his conformed curls, "You've got a lot to think about."
Maybe he can't help it? Ryu's a horny devil, too. Hell, I'm a horny human around these lava dogs!
Gathering her left hand to his lips, he kisses her knuckles, "See ya t'morrow, sis."
Umeko smiles, delicately withdrawing her hand from his. Bowing respectively, "Thanks, big bro."
Standing up to slide her forearms against each other as her sleeves connect, hiding all skin, "Good night."
Waving, "Sweet dreams, Ume," he quickly zips to the wooden door cast in stone.
Surveying the garden in a 360 degree turn, she confirms solitude before letting her hair down to fly free on the wind.
Tucking her ribbon into her dress's folds above the belt, she spaces out.
Staring off into the late afternoon, pale to cobalt blue skies doused with amber around the sun, she feels her mind calm after each passing moment.
"Find peace?"