( 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]

The fields are quiet at this hour, in the dim grey of the pre-dawn. Beautiful, too: the way the rice stalks sway in the same warm breeze, the feeling of the irrigation water lapping at your ankles, the softness of earth and silt at your feet. In the distance is the dark silhouette of a raiton as it takes off from the high branch of a dead tree.

Such tranquility. She used to love standing out here with you, feeling that old fierce pride in what you'd achieved; in how different it was from everything you had been and been asked to be.

You turn; there is your home behind you, just far enough to see the whole of it—large and tile-roofed, and though it is humble compared to your childhood home, its richness or lack of it has never been the point. The door is opening, now, with your children at the door, the edges of their bodies gently silhouetted by lamplight.

A sense of a kind of echo, to this memory, as the scene before you shifts: you see the children again and again through the years—your eldest as she grows tall and strong-armed and learns to tie back her sleek black hair in the same style you once wore; your second daughter's hair darkening to rich auburn; the scene with and without your third and fourth children—daughter and youngest son—rubbing sleep from their eyes.

"Mother—! Don't make us wait for you for breakfast!" Hanae calls; she's just old enough to start to tease you. She has a wooden spoon in one hand; the other rests on Fujiko's head while she clings to her older sister's yukata. Tall Miwa is beside them, and there, riding on her shoulders, dark hair already long and silky, with those wide gold eyes so like your own, is—

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Notes

• Yep, still looks the same age as in prior memories and in Imeeji.
• Her hair is in this style, which is the same style seen in someone else's memory.
• Miwa is her oldest daughter, Hanae her second, and Fujiko her third. The memory cuts off, though, before she can bring to mind the name of her youngest—her son.