Shinrabansho: Myriad Souls

Mom slipped her feet into her sandals in the genkan, her movements brisk yet not entirely unhurried, as if she’d already checked every detail twice. Late-morning sunlight spilled in through the open door behind her, warm and bright, carrying the distant sounds of the neighborhood already stirring for the festival.

She paused, then turned back toward us and set two cloth bags down on the low entry shelf beside the shoes.

“Here,” she said. “These are for you two, for later.” She looked at me and Aoi.

My attention snapped to what she was holding immediately. The fabric was neatly folded, patterned, and they gave the impression of being heavier than a simple lunch bag.

“Are they bento?” I asked, smiling, already half-expecting the answer.

“No,” Mom replied, amused. “They’re yukata. One for you, and one for Aoi. I hope you didn’t make other arrangements.”

I glanced sideways at Aoi. She was already looking at me. We shook our heads in sync, the movement small in the narrow space.

“There wasn’t really any time,” I said. “What with rehearsals and everything else.”

“We would’ve been without them if it wasn’t for you,” Aoi added, bowing politely from the waist despite the cramped entryway. “Thank you.”

Mom waved it off, reaching for her keys. “A little voice whispered about it,” she said lightly.

I blinked. “A little voice?”

She only smiled, slid the door open, and stepped outside. The door closed softly behind her, the latch clicking into place.

For a brief moment, the genkan felt too quiet.

Aoi’s gaze lifted, tracking upward along the ceiling as if she’d felt something pass just beyond reach. Her brow creased faintly.

Then she shook her head and exhaled.

Above us, unseen, Baku hovered comfortably, his legs were crossed midair as though he was Buddha. He lifted a delicate porcelain cup to his mouth beneath his trunk and took a slow sip of his tea, his eyes crinkling with quiet amusement.

Aoi let out a slow breath and glanced back at me.

“Thank you,” she said again, meeting my eyes.

I smiled and leaned into her side, letting my body rest against her. She accepted it without shifting, steady as always.

Before I could answer, Mom’s voice carried in from the kitchen.

“We’ll all come by before the play starts,” she called. “But first, breakfast. It’ll only take five minutes.”

Aoi huffed a quiet laugh. “I won’t go hungry with your mother taking care of us.”

“We can’t have you collapsing in the wings,” Riko said, smirking from just behind us. Yuna stood at her shoulder, calm and observant.

Aoi frowned and crossed her arms. “It’s honest work. We can’t have you collapsing in your dress, especially during the finger-pricking scene.”

“Tch.” Riko’s smirk deepened. “That’s what I’m supposed to do.”

“Maybe you should go hungry, then,” Aoi shot back. “To make the fainting extra convincing.”

“I think my acting skills are more than enough.” Riko shrugged.

“Try not to get distracted stealing a kiss from my wife,” Aoi added, her lips curling up.

“Okay… Okay… enough.” I waved my hands quickly. “Breakfast will get cold if you keep going at each other like this.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Riko kicked her shoes off at the step with chronic disrespect, exaggerating a sniff of the air. “Smells good. I love eggs.”

We headed to the kitchen together.

Yuna paused just inside, polite as ever, her hands folded loosely in front of her. Her gaze flicked over the table, then to me and Aoi, taking in the way we were pressed together without comment.

“It smells really good in here,” Yuna said calmly. “Thank you for inviting us.”

Mom waved her in as if she’d been expected all along. “Of course. Sit, sit. It’s nothing compared with the lovely curry that you three prepared for us weeks ago. There’s plenty of food for everyone.”

The table was already set. The food was nothing too elaborate, toast stacked on a plate, fried eggs with unpricked golden yolk still steaming, sliced fruit catching the morning light streaming through the window in our kitchen. The kettle glugged softly as Mom poured tea.

Haru barely sat down before he started talking.

“I checked out the school grounds already,” he said while shoveling food into his mouth between words. His knee bounced hard enough to rattle the table. “All the booths are up. I want to play ring toss and the goldfish scoop—oh, and the yakisoba stall smells amazing already.”

Riko squinted at him. “You sound like you’re about to explode from excitement.”

“Yeah. I am excited.” Haru deadpanned.

Mom gave him a look. “Eat before you vibrate your body through your chair.”

“I am!” He proved it by devouring his runny egg toast in oversized bites as always.

Aoi slid into the seat beside me. Our shoulders pressed together as she reached for her cup, and I let my leg hook lightly around hers under the table. She smiled without looking directly at me, already used to my clinginess, already accounting for me the way she always did.

Yuna took the seat across from us, her posture relaxed but attentive. Riko flounced into the remaining chair, grabbed a piece of toast for herself, and leaned back in her chair, making herself at home.

“So,” Riko said around a bite of food, her eyes flicking between us. “This is it, huh? The final day.”

“That’s so scary sounding. The day of our performance sounds better,” I corrected.

“It’s over after today, isn’t it?” Riko laughed, scratching her head. “I didn’t mean it that way. All that anticipation and excitement. Tomorrow we go back to our regular classes and focus more on studying.”

Aoi nodded, her lips tight. “Yeah. And after it’s over, we get to sleep for about a week.”

Yuna tilted her head. “You both look steady enough. I think you can handle the load.”

Riko snorted. “Have you really looked at these two this past week? They look like they’ve already eloped.”

I laughed and leaned more fully into Aoi, resting my cheek briefly against her shoulder. “We are… at least in our hearts.”

I love her so much.

Aoi’s arm slid around my waist without any thought, her thumb brushing my hip in a way that was unmistakably teasing. “Yes. She’s my wife.”

I blushed and snuggled closer.

DOKI-DOKI

I’m so happy. If only we could just stay like this forever…

Riko squinted at us. “I’m still trying to process how we came to see Sumire and somehow ended up watching domestic bliss. You must’ve woken up early to pick her up at her place, Sumire-chan. Isn’t that going to cost you on stage?”

“They’re living together now,” Haru blurted smugly, clearly enjoying himself. “They just came from her place.”

Riko dropped her toast on her plate, sending crumbs and bits of yolk flying and stared at us, her face heating all the way to scarlet.

“…We can’t keep up with them anymore, it would seem,” Yuna said mildly, taking a delicate bite of her egg toast.

“You seem popular, Sumire,” Mom observed, her lips twitching. “I never imagined my daughter would have such an effect on her female schoolmates.”

Dad scowled.

Riko and Yuna flushed to different degrees. Riko went completely red and Yuna a softer pink.

Aoi grinned. “At least it’s just the three of us as far as I know that are so in love with her.”

Dad shook his head, then smiled despite himself. “We’ll talk more about this when you’re in college.”

Mom nodded thoughtfully. “We’ll see. Matters of love aren’t rational things.”

Dad shrugged. “True. You did accept my humble proposal.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. I had my eye on you for a long time before then,” Mom said, smiling at him.

Aoi ate quietly after that, unhurried. She didn’t look nervous, but I could tell she was thinking. Most likely about the sensation of eyes on us that followed us here, about the tension in the air this morning. Her focus was turned mostly inward.

I caught myself watching her hands as she tore her toast apart slowly, with more grace than the simple act deserved, dipping each piece into the runny yolk.

I wonder if being a martial artist means being graceful at everything that you do,

even something as simple as eating.

Riko noticed too, smirking. “You really can’t stop staring at Aoi for even a minute.”

I blushed and looked away.

Yuna giggled. Haru laughed loudly.

“You get this look on your face,” Riko continued, amused. “Like you’re memorizing everything about her. Taking mental notes.”

Yuna sipped her tea. “She does that during training too, whenever she can.”

I didn’t deny it. Instead, I asked what had been sitting in my chest.

“Ne, Aoi-chan, does martial arts training change how you move everywhere in life?” I asked Aoi softly. “Even when you’re just… eating?”

She glanced down at her hands, then back at me. “Probably. Awareness is hard to turn off.”

I hummed. “I hope I can move like you someday.”

She leaned in and kissed my ear in a brief, warm and unhidden movement. “You already do. You move differently than you did a few months ago.”

Mom and Dad exchanged a look. Dad nodded slowly.

“I’ve noticed it.”

Riko frowned. “I did too. I didn’t want to say anything, but… yeah. It’s really obvious. It was very slow to build. Before I thought about it, you’d already changed.”

Yuna nodded. “She walks more assertively and more carefully as well. She doesn’t second-guess herself as much.”

Haru nodded, his cheeks pink as he smiled.

For a few minutes, the house stayed like that… feeling warm and full, balanced on the edge of something that hadn’t tipped yet.

When it was time to go, Aoi was the first to stand. We left together and Mom walked us to the door. Once we were outside, Aoi reached for my bike outside.

“I’ll push it along when we go,” she said, already turning my bike around. “It would be rude to ride it with Yuna-chan and Riko along.”

Riko stretched. “I guess it’s time to go play Prince and Princess.” She winked at me.

“Are you actually going to kiss?” Haru asked.

Riko winked back at him.

Yuna smiled. “I hope everyone enjoys my performance as Maleficent.”

“Oh, really? You’re playing the sorceress? I can’t see it!” Mom said, studying her face curiously.

“Would you like a preview?” Yuna asked.

Mom clasped her hands eagerly. “Yes please. This, I must see!”

Yuna’s posture shifted and stooped with age. Her expression sharpened, her lips twisting with sly contempt.

“Oh, I will gladly give it,” she said. “And you will remember me every day you wake.”

Her voice seemed to echo in the air as though she’s spoken profane words.

Mom gasped and clapped her hands.

“One more,” Yuna added, straightening this time, regal and cold. “Still you come. So small. So earnest…”

She tilted her head, studying me like I was so fragile that I might shatter in the next moment.

“You were warned. Every kingdom was warned. Love invites ruin. Hope invites despair.”

I adjusted my expression and lifted an imaginary sword, staying silent, swallowing theatrically as my posture firmed.

“Say something too Sumire,” Mom prompted.

“I don’t have any dialogue for a while, actually… pretty much none in the whole first half,” I said, giggling. “I just have to look princely.”

Mom laughed, covering her mouth. “You did. Very convincing.”

Haru grinned. “You can project confidence when you want. You just hide it most of the time, Onee-chan.”

Aoi shook her head. “My Sumire-chan is perfect the way she is.”

I blushed.

DOKI-DOKI

“It’s not about being strong all the time,” Aoi said softly. “It’s about being strong when it most matters.”

Outside, the air was thick with unseasonable heat. Cicadas buzzed lazily in the trees, their sound folding over itself.

Aoi took the bike without comment and pushed it alongside us as we walked. The two bundles containing our yukata rested snugly in the basket, with my bike’s tires bumping lightly over the uneven pavement, especially at the intersections going over the yellow and bumpy parts.

We walked together, all four of us, conversation coming easily at first.

“I can’t wait to see you in your yukata, Sumire-chan,” Riko said, clasping her hands behind her back as she leaned forward slightly.

I smiled, warmth creeping into my cheeks. “I’m sure Mom picked ones that suit us.”

“Yuna-chan has one too. In fact, we went shopping for them together,” Riko added brightly, then tilted her head at me. “Aren’t you looking forward to seeing us, Sumire-chan?”

Aoi snorted. “The only one Sumire-chan wants to see in a yukata is me. Not some frog.”

Riko gasped. “I am not playing the frog. You’re looking at a regal princess here.”

Yuna giggled behind her hand.

The sound faded.

A chill traced its way up my spine. It wasn’t the same sharp sensation of being watched, but the air still felt off, feeling tight, like something was being held back.

Something’s off.

“Ne… does the air feel strange to anyone else?” I asked after a moment.

Aoi glanced over. “Hmm? I don’t feel eyes on us anymore, but…”

“There’s some kind of tension in the air,” I said quietly. “Maybe it’s just me.”

Yuna shook her head. “No. It feels like a film stretched too thin.”

Riko slowed, frowning. “Yeah. Like walking into a room where everything looks normal, but your gut says something’s not right.”

“You feel it too?” I asked.

She nodded. “It’s subtle. But it feels like something’s waiting to happen.”

Aoi hummed. “Yuna was right. Definitely like a giant bubble about to burst.”

“Exactly,” Yuna said.

I leaned a little closer to Aoi, letting her presence steady me as we walked, while the air around us held its breath.

Ahead, the festival spilled across the school grounds. Steam curled up from grills. Oil hissed and popped. The air smelled like sugar, soy sauce, fried batter, smelling sweet and heavy all at once. Laughter bounced everywhere, bright and unfocused.

I was glad we’d already eaten. It made it easier not to stop on the way to the gymnasium, much easier to keep moving.

We didn’t head for the main building. Instead, Aoi angled us off to the side, guiding us past the crowds as easily as stepping through a curtain, students in yukata and mismatched festival clothes blurring together as we slipped by. The noise dulled almost instantly.

We reached the front of the school and parked my mamachari. Every spot in the rack was already taken, so we locked it just behind, looping the chain around the back. We took the bundled yukata from the basket, then pushed back into the flow of people, moving quickly until the gymnasium finally came into view.

The gym doors stood ahead of us, solid and closed.

“Are you ready?” Aoi asked.

I nodded, and a moment later her hand slid into mine, feeling warm and certain.

Together, we went inside.

The curtains were drawn over the stage when we slipped into the gym, the space behind them humming with bodies and a bunch of restrained motion, a quiet anticipation hanging in the air.

The bleachers were nearly full. Rows packed tight with parents, classmates, teachers, neighbors, and unfamiliar faces, all settling in with low murmurs and shifting in their seats. More than a few craned their necks toward the stage, as if they might glimpse some movement through the heavy fabric.

I walked beside Aoi down the narrow aisle at the back, our fingers brushing every few steps. Each touch was deliberate, not for reassurance, just because we wanted to feel each other there.

For a moment, it was hard not to imagine a different version of this walk. The center aisle. Rows of seats filled. The two of us moved forward together toward where we would be bonded.

DOKI-DOKI

I steadied myself. Most of this excitement was still about the performance, not over a fantasized event that I was daydreaming about.

The gym smelled of wood polish and fabric, with a faint metallic tang from the stage lights as they warmed. Near the front, students stretched and rolled their shoulders, voices murmuring through low hums and half-sung scales. Someone laughed a little too loudly. Someone else shushed them, and the sound settled back into anticipation.

Everything was finally coming together.

Aoi stopped backstage near the rear wall and turned to me. Her eyes softened in that way they always did when she was looking straight at me and nowhere else.

“While I know you won’t be on stage for a while, you should get into your costume soon,” she said quietly.

I nodded and stepped closer, my hands sliding around her waist without thinking. “Yeah. And you’ll be busy helping the stage crew set up the props. I’m counting on you to make this play amazing, my wife.”

Her palms settled on my back, firm and warm.

I tilted my face up just slightly. She leaned down enough to rest her forehead against mine, then brushed her lips over mine in a gentle kiss.

DOKI-DOKI

“For good luck,” Aoi said, completely serious.

“You too,” I said, winking at her.

“Make sure you watch out for Riko and those lips of hers.” Her lips twisted.

“I hope you have time to see my acting in the last half,” I murmured, half teasing, half earnest.

She smiled. It was small but just for me. “I will.”

I clung to her for another heartbeat, memorizing the feel of her hands, the steadiness of her breathing. Then we reluctantly parted, and I turned toward the girls’ locker room.

The locker room was already alive with movement when I stepped inside.

Fabric rustled as girls changed. Shoes clattered softly against the benches. Someone hummed a tune that sounded like it belonged in a fairy tale. Costumes hung from hooks and locker doors, silk, brocade, and gauze layered together, their colors vivid under the locker room lights.

Riko was already there, of course.

She stood by her locker, already halfway out of her uniform with absolutely no sense of urgency, even though she had parts much sooner than me, stretching her arms overhead as she peeled her blouse up and over her head, almost as though she’d timed this. Her bra was simple, but the way she moved made it feel like a performance just for me.

She noticed me looking at her and smirked.

Called it. I flushed.

“Oh, Sumire-chan,” she said lightly, pretending to be surprised. “What took you so long? Kisses?”

I swallowed and turned just enough to grab my costume from my locker. It was neatly hung up inside, already ready for me to wear. Riko somehow moved closer, in nearly the same half dressed state. Riko wasn’t in a rush. She slipped out of her skirt, then bent to step into her costume leggings, flashing her pantied butt at me, her breasts shifting naturally in her bra as she moved.

DOKI-DOKI

Stop that, baka!

I wasn’t sure that I actually wanted her to, knowing that I absolutely should not have been this flustered, especially not after being so intimate with Aoi-chan.

DOKI-DOKI

I froze.

Riko glanced over her shoulder, catching my reflection in the mirror, and grinned. “You’re staring at my butt, aren’t you?” She wiggled it deliberately at me.

“Wah… No… no! I—I’m not,” I said automatically… an obvious lie.

No one could possibly miss her butt when she’s shaking it like that!

I staggered.

She laughed, delighted, and finally pulled her tunic on, not bothering with her skirt yet. “You’re very cute when you’re trying to be aloof and proper.”

She drew her fingers along the lines of her crotch and backside and slowly teased her panties down.

DOKI-DOKI… BADUMP

I felt like I was going to die.

Before I could retort, Yuna’s voice drifted in behind me.

“I see I’ve arrived at an interesting moment.”

I turned and froze as though she was Aoi, catching me staring at Riko and her shameless teasing.

I cleared my throat, not saying anything.

Yuna began changing too, her movements calm, unhurried, completely unselfconscious. She slipped her blouse off with a soft rolling of her shoulders, her skin catching the light as she reached for the dark, heavy robes of the crone costume. There was nothing exaggerated about the way she moved, unlike Riko, and somehow that made everything worse.

She met my eyes briefly, knowingly, as she stepped into her skirt.

“You’re blushing ,” she observed gently. “I wonder why. I did nothing, you know.”

“It’s just warm in here!” I muttered.

Riko pouted.

Yuna smiled as she fastened her robe, leaning closer just long enough that I caught the faint scent of her citrus soap. “It sure is busy in here, isn’t it? There’s so much going on, so much tension in the air… It’s all so exciting!”

DOKI-DOKI

“Yeah.” I managed.

Riko clicked her tongue. “How unfair, Yuna-chan. You’re stealing my spotlight,” she huffed. “You’re too smooth about it, like everything else.”

“I practice restraint unlike some,” Yuna replied pleasantly. “But to be fair, you were doing an excellent job yourself.” She winked at Riko, who blushed and smiled. “I enjoyed it, especially Sumire’s reaction.”

“This was premeditated wasn’t it? Is this proof of collusion?” I complained, clutching at my heart.

“Fufufu… it seems we still have a chance to catch up in your heart.” Yuna winked and leaned forward, gazing into my eyes.

Her blue eyes are just too pretty. I shaked my head violently and she giggled.

Megumi, already dressed and perched on a bench, watched the exchange with open amusement. “Wow. Make sure you take those high spirits onto the stage!”

Hinata appeared at my side, quiet and focused a clipboard in her hands. She was already in work mode, her eyes flicking over our costume’s seams and ties.

“Sumire-san,” she said softly. “May I check your costume for damage?”

“Yes,” I said quickly, hurrying up with removing my costume from my locker. I’d been so distracted that I’d been frozen in place, just staring.

So much for all that training to keep myself from freezing. Maybe I need more skinship training now!

I knew full well that no amount of training would change how I reacted to these two.

I changed more quickly than Riko had. The Prince Filia costume fit my body snugly as usual. As I buttoned it up, I straightened.

Hinata adjusted a cuff, her cheeks pink, probably over having witnessed Riko’s performance and Yuna’s teasing, but her expression remained professional. “The fit is very good,” she murmured. “It suits you as I thought it would.”

“Thank you,” I said, my voice quieter than I expected.

Nearby, a girl in a frog costume practiced crouching and hopping in place, quietly croaking her lines under her breath. Another student moved past in an owl mask, her wings brushing lightly against the lockers as she tested how much room she had to move without breaking or bending any of the feathers attached to them.

Somewhere beyond the walls, music began to fill the gymnasium, low and shimmering, like the chanting of a spell.

Riko stretched dramatically towards me, now fully dressed in her Princess Aurora costume. “I guess it’s close to time. Let’s do our best!”

“DON’T break a leg, any of us,” Yuna croaked suddenly, her posture collapsing into the crone’s stoop, her voice rasping perfectly.

I laughed. “Your acting skills are terrifying, Yuna-chan!”

“Ugh… I wish I wasn’t unconscious for like half of this play,” Riko complained, flopping onto a bench. “At least I’ll get extra sleep… and I get to deliver a speech at the end.”

“Don’t put the audience asleep being too long-winded.” Yuna teased.

“Don’t actually sleep on stage, baka!” Megumi scolded at the same time.

“But it would be extra convincing. A little snoring might not hurt my performance.” Riko grinned.

Megumi crossed her arms. “What if you don’t wake up on cue?”

Riko’s eyes sparkled. “No problems there. There’s no way that I’d sleep through a kiss from Sumire-chan.” Her lashes fluttered.

My face heated instantly.

“And then Aoi runs onstage and tackles you when she sees you enjoying it too much,” I said, laughing.

Riko considered it, grinning wider. “Hmm. Might be worth it.”

The music swelled.

DOKI-DOKI

It was time!

The best I could do was show them going through to the Cultural Festival.

Sadly I couldn’t do much with Riko’s teasing scene. I REALLY wanted to generate that!!!

This picture, however is very impressive! The amount of detail in it is shocking!