( imeeji ) memory registry

[worthathousand]

	DATE	LINK
亜子 Ako	day 75	you lift it anyway
Hero Worshipped	day 111	it has been my dream to live by your example
Alone in the Fields	day 111	the rice stalks sway
The Wyld Hunt pt. 1	day 127	your heretic chosen
The Wyld Hunt, pt. 2	day 127	the fate of those who lose their will to demons
Joined with Shiho	day 199	kimono in Serenity blue
A Fight for Father	day 201	once there was a maiden
The War Yeddim	day 201	the battle is a song
General Ascendant	day 201	white lily of war
Calibration Stories	day 201	born an exception
Shrine Maiden	day 260	you are my child of peace
First Battle	day 260	cries of the injured and dying
Shiho's Illness	day 260	a season of cold and fever
Meet-Cute	day 451	Tits, indeed.
Imagining a Future	day 456	"What do you want to do, after?"
TBD	---	---
TBD	---	---

full registry on trello

Comments

[worthathousand]

Your son looks so small in your lap—fragile like a songbird, though it is already his third birthday. Even so, his gold eyes are wide with interest; he is probably paying more attention to your story than Miwa, Hanae, and Fujiko put together. Of course, by now, they know all your fables by heart.

If Shiho were here, she would set it to song, and the tale would be new and exciting every time—

Even so, you do your best: making silly claw-shapes with your hands to imitate a fearsome demon, or dropping your voice to a spooky whisper to imitate a hungry ghost. Of course, these aren’t just stories: the dangers of Calibration are all too real.

(Something about this scene may seem familiar.)

After the second story, though, Miwa rolls her eyes: at thirteen years old, she already wants to know “the real things,” as she solemnly puts it. So you swap to theology, and tell your daughters of the thin borders between realms during these five days of the year, and the world left vulnerable while all gods but Five Days Darkness have their yearly carnival. It’s all rather over your littlest one’s head, and his eyelids begin to flutter with oncoming sleep.

Fujiko, your second-youngest, tugs on Miwa’s sleeve, pointing out her sleepy little brother’s drooping head with a muffled giggle. Miwa grins, then, and hurries to the bedroom, returning with a doll that you recognize as a hand-me-down from Fujiko (and Hanae before her); the girls must have worked to freshen up the hair and miniature shrine maiden dress themselves. She presses the doll into her brother’s hands.

“Keep her close, okay? She’ll use her good luck charms to keep your safe from your bad luck birthday.” Miwa moves the doll to tickle him a bit—but you can tell that it’s not entirely meant as a joke.

You feel your brows furrow. “Don’t be so quick to judge his birthday, Miwa. It just means he was born an exception.” Your hands gently smooth your son’s dark hair. “—Born with no one to tell him what to be. Luckier, in that, than the rest of us.”

At least your son seems at peace with himself, even if his sisters tease. You send them to tidy up the remains of your too-scant meal (another thin year, but you’ll make it work, you’re sure), letting yourself cherish the feeling of him drifting to sleep in your arms.

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Notes:

• This is indeed the exact same memory Persephone received, just from a different perspective.
• Here, Miwa is thirteen, Hanae eight, and Fujiko six, while baby Persephone is 3. It is also possible to get a better look at their features: Miwa, Hanae, and Fujiko have blue, grey, and grey-green eyes, respectively—it’s just Persephone who has inherited Amaranth’s gold. Miwa already is close to her mother’s height, well on her way to being quite tall.
• As in this memory, Amaranth’s hair is in “widow’s braids” tied with purple ribbon.