Shinrabansho: Myriad Souls

When Aoi finally declared that my training was over for the day, she gestured toward the beach expansively and smiled.

“With our training finished for the day, let’s go make some more memories together!” Aoi said with a wink.

I nodded, still a little preoccupied with the things she’d said earlier while training.

“Let’s go!” she added, taking my hand. “Don’t overthink. You’ll figure things out eventually.”

My legs were still humming from the training, but the stiffness faded as the hours slipped by.

At some point, we ended up crouched in the sand, building a sandcastle on a whim with Riko and Yuna heading to the stands for some treats for us all.

We didn’t have any proper tools, but we worked determinedly anyway, shaping towers with our bare hands, packing and smoothing the sand as best we could.

I worked quietly. The simple repetition helped settle my thoughts, letting the tension drain out of me.

Maybe that was her intention. She definitely noticed how unsettled I felt.

Once my towers seemed sturdy enough, I started carefully building the wall between them.

Aoi-chan smiled at me. “Good! We’ll connect our sections after this. You take one side and I’ll take the other…” She paused, then flushed slightly. “Although… maybe we should’ve started with the central structures.”

I blinked. She’d realized it before I had. I’d been too distracted to notice the mistake we were making, mostly going through the motions.

We’d put the egg before the chicken. Or maybe the shell before the golden interior.

“Well…” I said slowly, looking at our half-finished work, “we could knock it down and rebuild it properly and restart from the middle and work outward this time.”

Aoi’s eyes suddenly lit up as she stood, grinning. “That’s the best part anyway. Let’s do it!”

I laughed as we kicked apart our failed construction, sand scattering everywhere.

Riko and Yuna returned from the beach stands with shaved ice in hand as we’d finished.

“Thanks,” I said as Yuna passed one to me and Riko handed Aoi hers.

We paused to eat, sitting in the ruins of our failed construction watching the waves roll in.

“So,” Riko asked casually, “how’d the castle turn out?”

Aoi laughed. “Can’t you tell? We’re sitting in its remains.”

“Oh.” Riko smirked. “If you want, I don’t mind helping with the second attempt.”

“Pft—as if you could do it better,” Aoi shot back.

“You bet I can, mere dabbler,” Riko declared with a proud grin. “I’ve made a bunch of these before. Though… we are missing the kind of tools that would help.”

I nodded as I carefully munched on my shaved ice. It was sweet, cooling and refreshing! “It takes a lot of patience when you’re working with just your hands, but it’s doable to pull it off.”

Yuna took a big bite of her shaved ice and immediately shivered, an odd mistake for the ever-elegant Yuna to make. “Ahhh… brain freeze!” She muttered, rubbing the back of her neck and temples.

“Are you okay?” I asked as I lurched up, knowing that I couldn’t do anything to help her and that it would pass.

“It’s fine,” she said lightly, pained. “On a day like this, it doesn’t last too long.”

“Put your tongue against the roof of your mouth to warm it and stop eating for a few minutes, Yuna-chan!” I put my hands on her shoulders.

Yuna flushed faintly, looking up at me.

“I know all of that.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Perhaps you might like to share your body heat to heal me. Your tongue is probably warmer than mine.”

I staggered backward with pink cheeks.

Yuna giggled. “Just kidding! I’m fine already.”

“Tch…” Aoi muttered.

Riko looked at Yuna thoughtfully and then took a big bite of her own shaved ice.

A moment later, Riko groaned dramatically. “Aughhhhhh!” She clutched her head. “Save me, Sumire-chan! Only your tongue can rescue me!”

I turned red and fell to my backside in the sand.

Aoi swatted the back of Riko’s head. “Ouch!” she complained, pouting.

Yuna giggled softly, taking another careful bite of hers and then said, “I don’t mind helping out with your construction too.”

Once our shaved ices were polished off, thankfully without any further brain freeze incidents, we started working again.

Aoi carried over fresh wet sand from closer to the ocean by the armful, and we all gathered around the center to rebuild properly this time. When we had enough damp sand piled up, Aoi knelt and began sculpting her side of the structure.

The central tower rose quickly, growing tall enough to feel important.

Riko giggled and plucked one of the little Japan flags that had been planted in our shaved ice cups and carefully pressed it into the top of the tower.

Everything looked perfect for about three seconds.

Then the tower slumped sideways.

“It was built too high,” Riko said immediately, already reaching in to help fix it, panicking.

“You punched the flag in way too hard,” Aoi said, rolling her eyes.

“Nah… this one’s on you,” Riko shot back, hurriedly rebuilding her side as we all packed and supported the sand again.

“You can’t blame just one person for what happened. We’re all making this together,” Yuna pointed out calmly.

“Riko’s side was the weakest,” Aoi said with a smirk. “Although she has an eye for form, her hands probably aren’t steady enough for this kind of delicate work.”

Riko gasped and flung a small handful of sand at Aoi.

That was all it took.

The structure slumped even more as Aoi and Riko devolved into kicking and throwing sand at each other, trading potshots with increasing enthusiasm.

I leaned back on my heels and spread my hands. “Well… so much for our grand project.”

“Sand represents impermanence, anyway,” Yuna said thoughtfully beside me, nodding to herself. “Even if they hadn’t started fighting, the ocean or wind would’ve eventually destroyed whatever we made.”

“Or if Aoi-chan had gotten up and kicked it over,” I said with an affectionate smile.

According to Aoi, that would have been the most fun part, and frankly, I had to admit that I enjoyed it almost more than building one too.

Eventually, they got the sand fight out of their systems. Aoi looked at all three of the rest of us, then at the lopsided shrine-castle slowly collapsing in on itself.

“Oops,” she said, laughing. “Sorry.”

“Well,” Riko said, brushing sand from her hands, “we still made something cool together.”

I looked at it again.

It was ugly, uneven and half-collapsed, but she was right, we’d made the castle together.

Later on, the four of us straddled a bright yellow banana boat we’d rented while a boy from another class revved the engine impatiently. The moment we started moving, my grip locked tight, like my life genuinely depended on it.

The boat hit its first wave and bounced.

I shrieked, my voice cracking, and clung harder to the handles.

Aoi’s legs were braced behind me, her arms snapping around my sides, anchoring me in place. I keenly felt her chest pressed against my back. Riko grabbed my waist from behind Aoi-chan, muttering something about not having enough leverage. Yuna sat in front of me. She glanced back, grinning as she calmly placed one hand over my wrist.

“Don’t worry,” she said, far too serenely for someone currently skimming across the ocean at a reckless speed.

We hit another bump.

Cold seawater sprayed everywhere.

I yelped… then laughed, the sound torn right out of me.

The boy steering glanced back over his shoulder. “Don’t move too much! There’s an art to boating. We’re probably all too heavy together. If we move the wrong way…”

“Who’s heavy?!” I yelled.

“Pay more attention to steering!” Aoi snapped after me. “You’re probably heavier than all three of us weighed together!”

As they were bickering I noticed a taller than usual wave crashing against our boat.

…

As the water struck us, the boat skewed.

I screamed as the world flipped.

We all went under.

Salt water rushed over me, cold and disorienting, before I kicked up and broke the surface with a gasp. One by one, heads popped up around me, Aoi, Riko, Yuna with their hair plastered to their faces, everyone’s eyes wide. The boy who’d capsized our boat with his inattention surfaced last.

Regardless of the previous tension, I started laughing and everyone laughed with me.

The banana boat bobbed nearby, upside down, its motor still sputtering uselessly.

The boy swam over to it, red-faced. “Uh… can you all swim for the beach? I’ll take care of getting the boat back.”

Everyone nodded.

We paddled back toward the beach together, slower now, still giggling as the adrenaline faded.

By the time we stumbled onto the sand, my legs were shaking and my throat faintly aching from screaming, laughing, or both.

Evening crept in quietly.

Steam fogged the bathhouse windows as we slid into the hot water for the last time, the heat sinking deep into our sore muscles. My body’s tension melted away.

Aoi leaned her head back against the rock that we were resting against in the bath, her eyes half-closed. “How are you feeling?” she asked softly. “Are you as tired as me?”

“Exhausted,” I said, letting my shoulders sink beneath the surface. “These two days have been amazing in a lot of ways.”

“Yeah,” Aoi replied simply.

Yuna floated nearby, her arms drifting lazily at her sides, looking like she might drift off. Her towel was draped over her chest.

But it hadn’t covered her properly everywhere.

As she drifted sideways, I noticed what was exposed between her legs and felt my face heat up. After a brief hesitation, I reached up and took my washcloth from where it rested on my head, and carefully laid it over her hips, flushing a little as I adjusted it into place so that no one else would get a good look at her.

“Thanks, Sumire-chan,” Yuna said, smiling faintly without opening her eyes.

I wonder if she did that on purpose.

Skinship hadn’t prepared me for noticing something like that so directly.

Riko rested her chin on her knees, watching us with an unguarded and peaceful expression I didn’t see often on her face.

The water lapped softly against our bodies. No one spoke, but the mood shifted all the same, gentle and sad feelings settling between us. The vacation was ending. We could all feel it.

Then, abruptly, something felt wrong.

A spot in the corner of the bathhouse darkened… just a little, barely noticeable. Pon-chan wasn’t anywhere in sight this time, and no one else seemed to notice it at all, but I did.

This time there was no rushing sensation.

Whatever it was just watched us.

That night after dinner one of the teachers announced we could take a short, supervised walk along the beach before curfew.

The sky was a deep indigo, scattered with stars and washed faintly by the hostel’s reflected lights. The waves were darker now, their foam pale as they crashed against the sand and vanished against the shoreline.

Instead of wearing our swimsuits, everyone had on the hostel’s yukatas.

We drifted in loose knots along the sand, talking quietly among ourselves. Laughter rose and fell like the tide, never quite loud enough to break the calm mood.

Aoi and I ended up walking off to the side without really planning to. Our hands brushed once. Then again. The third time, she laced her fingers through mine and held on.

“Are you cold?” she asked.

“A little,” I admitted.

She squeezed my hand. “I’ll warm you up.”

“Oh?” I asked, my heart skipping. “How?”

“There are plenty of ways,” Aoi replied, her tone teasing.

Footsteps crunched softly behind us. A moment later, Riko slipped in on my other side, matching our pace.

Aoi pouted and shot her a glare.

“Am I interrupting something?” Riko asked.

“Yes,” we said at the same time.

Riko smiled faintly. “I figured.” She slowed slightly but didn’t stop. “I won’t stay long, then. I just wanted to say that you did well on this trip, Sumire-chan.”

“In my training?” I asked.

“In everything,” she said. “You’ve been really… blossoming.”

The word made me laugh, a little embarrassed. “That makes me sound like a flower.”

“You are,” Yuna said from behind us. She stepped closer, glowsticks looped around her wrist, soft neon light spilling over our faces as she handed a few to us. “But you’re also like a comet. Sudden and bright. You streak through the sky, and people make wishes as you pass.”

I stared at her, heat creeping into my cheeks.

“Thank you,” I said softly, unsure how else to respond.

“I like poetic metaphors,” Yuna added mildly.

“I can tell,” Aoi said dryly.

We kept walking, the four of us together, falling into an easy, companionable near-silence together. The waves filled the gaps between our footsteps.

Moments like this were precious, even if I couldn’t be alone with Aoi-chan the way I wanted.

I thought about the trip so far.

Sand and sea. Volleyball. Exploring a mysterious grotto. Pon-chan’s antics. Our swimsuits. Silly arguments. Lingering aches from our training. Shared baths. Building failed sand castles. Our banana boat capsizing. Laying together in my futon, feeling complete in a way that I never could at night back at home hugging my pillow. Glowsticks glowing softly in the dark on the shoreline of Shirasuna.

It had been a great trip. If anything was wrong with it, we hadn’t gotten any studying done. 

Lights-out came too soon.

We lay in our futons again. Aoi-chan crawled into mine again, this time turning to face away. I wrapped myself around her again, nuzzling at her neck, giving it soft kisses. The room was dim except for the faint light from the hallway slipping under the door. The sound of girls talking echoed down the hall here and there, the voices muffled. As time passed, sleep tugged them down and the hostel fell quieter.

“Ne,” Hinata whispered from the far side of the room. “Who of us do you think will get married first?”

“Eh?” Megumi giggled. “It’s too early to think about something like that. Plus it’d be too immodest to name myself.”

“You have a boyfriend?” Hinata asked.

“No… nothing like that, but I have my eye on someone,” Megumi mumbled tiredly.

“I think that Shinohara-san will,” Hinata said.

“Why? Girls that like each other can’t get married legally,” Megumi pointed out.

“Ah… true… but…” Hinata mumbled.

I choked on air. “Wh—why me?!” I couldn’t resist asking.

Aoi-chan giggled.

“You give off strong wife vibes, even though,” Hinata said. “Maybe the yuri thing is just a phase. Anyway, you’re soft and cute… but surprisingly tough. I watched you training earlier. You looked cool.”

My face combusted. “Not like Aoi-chan—! She’s way cooler than me!”

Aoi-chan turned around and snuggled against me and started kissing my neck herself, continuing what I started.

I gasped, trying to stay quiet.

“Would you marry an older person or younger?” Hinata asked.

“I—I’m… I’m not marrying anyone,” I said softly, stammering, because Aoi was pressed tightly against me, nibbling.

“That’s probably a lie,” Yuna murmured from her futon. “But statistically speaking, it’s highly likely that Japan will eventually legalize same-sex marriages someday.”

I blushed at the thought, hoping that Yuna was right.

“Aoi-chan…” I begged softly as Aoi-chan slipped lower and snuggled her face between my breasts.

“I’m certain of it,” Yuna said. “From a purely academic standpoint… but I confess that I hope it happens on an emotional level.”

I gasped. Did she…. Ahhhhhhh!

Aoi tugged at one of my nipples through my pajama’s thin fabric… Ahhhhh… I bit my lip as a sharp tingle went through me.

Aoi mumbled from between my breasts and giggled softly, “She’s going to marry someone who can both protect and challenge her,” she said firmly. “Someone who makes her feel safe and strong.”

“That’s very specific,” Riko’s voice floated from across the room. “I wonder who could possibly fit that description… I might be able to.”

“I won’t answer that,” Aoi complained from between my breasts.

I gasped. She wasn’t doing much right now, but her words surprised me.

“It’s just what she deserves,” Aoi murmured.

“Do you like older girls, Sumire?” Megumi asked.

“I—uh—” I could only think of Aoi-chan.

“Then you need to study more,” Yuna said, utterly deadpan. “I volunteer as a tutor… for anatomy.”

“Yuna!” I yelped, blushing. Aoi-chan was already doing that… sort of.

Aoi’s hands gripped my bottom firmly as she snuggled closer under the blanket, her face firmly ensconced between my breasts.

Laughter rippled around the room.

“We’re just teasing you, Sumire-chan,” Riko laughed softly. “We know what you’re doing.”

I blushed, covering my face.

Aoi growled softly against me. “Stop harassing my future wife.”

DOKI-DOKI… BADUMP

Everyone fell silent.

“Wow!” Megumi giggled.

Hinata didn’t say anything.

“Future wife, huh,” Riko giggled. “We’ll see about that.”

The next day, we had breakfast, and shortly after that we packed up and boarded the buses rumbling back toward Tokyo. The beach shrank in the rear window, turning from a bright smear of color into a soft, fuzzy memory.

I once again wore my sunhat for a lack of any place to stow it.

After a series of rest stops, snacking, stretching our legs, and lining up for the restrooms, we finally reached Tokyo and returned to the school where our vacation had started.

The classroom felt different after all of that, brighter, but smaller.

I dropped my bag at my desk and tried not to yawn. My muscles still ached pleasantly from all the training, running, and swimming. Pon-chan, completely spent, had fallen asleep in his cage almost immediately. I wondered if they’d sedated him to keep him from getting free after the first day.

“Attention forward everyone,” Kurosawa-sensei said as she strode in. “Before we start today’s lessons, I have an announcement.”

She turned and tapped a large, colorful poster she’d pinned to the bulletin board.

Bold letters at the top read:

Cultural Festival Coming Soon!

Class Play Voting Tomorrow!

Princess & Prince Play Candidates Wanted!

(Chosen script pending agreement!)

The room erupted.

“Yes! It’s the cultural festival!”

“A play? We get to choose which story to base it on?”

“Can we just do a maid café?”

“No more haunted houses, I nearly died of fright last year—”

“Princess candidates? I’m totally putting my name in!”

I stared at the poster, my throat suddenly dry.

Aoi smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Looks like things are about to get interesting. I wonder if you’ll end up with a big part to play, Sumire-chan.”

Riko’s smile was small and unreadable. “Oh yeah… and how?”

Yuna smiled gently. “It should be interesting to see what the class decides.”

“Wouldn’t you want to participate?” Riko asked her.

“We’ll see,” Yuna replied.

Pon-chan stirred faintly in his cage, his nose twitching before he settled again.

I had no idea that this simple poster would be the fuse for our next little explosion.

But as my classmates shouted suggestions for stories and argued over potential roles, I felt a strange mix of dread and excitement coiling in my chest.

And somewhere outside the dream world, in a stone chamber lit by foxfire and embers in a nearby fireplace, a dream-eating yōkai watched our little world with hungry, wandering eyes.

For the first time, something prickled inside the dream.

Something that did not belong to him.

It wasn’t born of the dream.

It wasn’t shaped by his will.

It came from somewhere else.

He had finally glimpsed it.

Again and again, he told himself he hadn’t… but denial could only go so far.

A ghostly face that wasn’t quite a face.

And worse still…

That something had noticed him, too.