In Those Deep, Starry Eyes, I See Cherry Petals Depressed but breathing

Chapter 1: The First Meeting

• It’s said that staring into the eyes of another gives you a view directly into their soul. With enough time, you’re able to look into someone’s eyes and know exactly what it is they’re feeling, what they’re thinking about, what their hopes and dreams contain, their deepest secrets, and sometimes even their memories. It was a cliché expression, but to Sakura Miko, she found it to be very true.
• Miko worked as a shrine maiden all her life. Now a young woman in her early 20’s, she still lived at the temple she’d been raised in. All of the burdens of finances had fallen to her when her parents had passed away, but those expenses were offset thanks to the inheritance they’d left her in their wills. She continued on with the Sakura way of life, tending to the sakura trees that seemed to stay blossoming longer than any others of their kind. A red torii gate marked the beginning of the land that she technically now owned, no matter how weird it made her feel to put the words that way. She preferred the phrase, “where she lived” over “her land.” From the torii, a cobblestone pathway made of an assortment of different shapes and colors from deep brown to nearly pale white would guide any who sought advice from the shrine maiden to their destination.
• A few stands were set up for the more trivial requests, such as luck drawings and horoscope fortunes. If anyone needed to actually speak to the miko, they would simply move past these stands to one final stand. It was facing directly toward the torii rather than slanted perpendicular to the pathway 90 degrees like the other stands. Behind the miko’s stand was a much smaller pathway which led to a gray carved stone temple, the roof of which seemed to be stained pink from all of the decades of sakura petals accumulating on it and being rained on. Despite it, it still looked to be in relatively good condition, no traces of mold or wear any worse than minor chips and cracks.
• When a visitor who needed advice entered, they slowly made their way to Miko’s stand. Miko had generously set out a stool for any who needed advice to sit at rather than stand. Sometimes the conversations were particularly heavy, and she didn’t want anyone falling over from the gravity that sometimes weighed on the shoulders of the emotionally or spiritually weary. With her years of practice, she could simply look into their eyes and know what was wrong. She would always treat them as though they were someone extremely important: perhaps a government official or a CEO of some sort. It didn’t matter if the most well-known homeless man had come before her, she still gave them the dignity of her time and her honest advice.
• No matter what, she could always rely on the eyes of the weary to help them move forward. She’d helped grieving mothers when their children had lost their lives in the service, she’d helped children who’d lost their favorite pet, she’d helped men who’d lost their businesses and families. The world was a cruel, sad place. She knew this. The eyes of those who dealt with misfortune were always there to guide her, and from them she could guide their owners to their own paths.
• The eyes that teared up after receiving her advice, urged on by a well of thankfulness, were always the eyes she cherished seeing. Those eyes showed that she’d truly helped. Some who visited didn’t believe in her words fully, thus their eyes only shone half as bright as they could. The people whose eyes shone brighter than the sun in the sky were those that made her job worth the time.
• Yes, without a doubt, Miko knew her job well. She knew the people who came to her inside and out, even if they were a bunch of spiritually skeptical teenagers just coming to poke fun at her or ogle at her larger-than-average chest. Their shining orbs opened to her as though they were books, waiting for her to comb through their pages. She took pride in her skill and expertise that she used for her job.
• Despite all of her pride and expertise, there is always an exception to every rule, without fail. That exception emerged to her one evening, following a meteor shower that lit up the night sky prior.
• Shocking blue hair that mirrored the clear midday sky adorned her head, curling like the waves on a beach. The tie in her short hair was to the side of her head, creating a really cute asymmetrical ponytail. She was tall and incredibly slender, but well built. Not malnourished by any means, especially if her well-toned legs were anything to go by. Her body was embraced by a monochrome gray skirt, accented by small pairs of lines creating a somewhat checkered pattern. A small blue belt was tied where her stomach was. A portion of the skirt was a frilly blue ribbon, and a matching gray hat with a blue ribbon sat on top of her head. If Miko had the option to add something to it, she’d place a golden crown on top of the hat, because this woman before her was obviously royalty with how she held herself. Her stance screamed not that of haughtiness, but that of pride and confidence. It was intimidating just looking at her, but the shrine maiden swore she felt a shiver crawl down her spine when the bluenette looked directly at her.
• She moved forward slowly, a curiosity about her as she looked at the stalls next to the path. She stooped down, her head cocked to and fro several times, as though studying everything from the quality of the wood to the design of the planks. Eventually, she righted herself from her bowed position to look at the sign. A shrug of the shoulders and a pull of the stand’s lever allowed a small stick to fall out. The woman held the stick up to her eyes before looking at the sign indicating what number of notches meant what. She scoffed, a small smile playing on her lips. She tucked the stick into her hair, opposite the side which showed the number of notches before moving over to Miko’s stand.
• Miko gulped as the woman let the veneer of confidence go, all but collapsing onto the stool and slouching like she was a mere pauper compared to the royalty she appeared. It took the shrine maiden a moment before she remembered that this woman was a customer.
• “Greetings. My name is Sakura Miko, the shrine maiden of Shikemura Shrine. How may I be of assistance?” The bluenette leaned back, a smile on her lips once more.
• “Shikemura? Why’s it called ‘village’ if it’s a shrine?” Already, the tone the woman used grated on Miko. She carefully measured her breath, counting in her mind to 10 before exhaling. She smiled as endearingly at the woman as she could manage.
• “Well, it used to be inhabited by more than just myself, but many of those people have either moved on or passed…” The woman blinked a few times, starry blue eyes glittering as her eyelids rehydrated them.
• “Ah… I see. Sorry, I just… I’m trying to lighten this mood I’m dealing with right now.”
• Miko could see it alright. Everything of the woman, from the complete 180 in character to her physical appearance to her shaky voice told the miko that this woman was in desperate need of help. There was just one issue.
• She couldn’t read her eyes.
• They sparkled and twinkled like the stars above, but they were blackened despite their blue hue.
• They shone but had no life in them, a barrier set up to guard and protect from anyone and anything.
• It scared Miko. She’d never seen eyes like this: lifeless, soulless.
• “How… how can I help you?” A sad smile adorned her perfect face.
• “How, indeed? I wish I knew myself. Y’see, I’m just… stuck right now. I’m so stuck. I can’t even barely make myself walk anymore. What good is that? My voice sounds like my throat was throttled a day ago, how crazy is that? I wasn’t even near anyone for that to happen…”
• Miko tried, gods above did she try to follow. Everything this talking enigma said simply created more questions. Nothing was answering anything. Everything was tied up in an impossibly complex knot, and each time she spoke, another loop would be added to the knot, twisting it infinitely more. It was overwhelming to Miko, in the worst way possible. She felt horrible not being able to help, so she simply decided to keep listening.
• “What use is it if I can’t do what I’m supposed to? Why do I feel like it’s never enough? Why can’t I be better than what I’ve already done?” The bluenette sighed, a pitiful thing filled with more sadness than a woman like her should have. “Nah, that’s not it. I guess I’m really just confused with everything right now. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, where I’m supposed to go, and who I’m supposed to know. Everything’s unknown to me and it’s killing me.” Miko could work with this!
• “Well, what is it that you’re afraid of, when dealing with the unknown? Some people see the unknown as a sort of adventure to some degree. What is it that turns the adventure into fear?” The bluenette placed a hand on her chin for a few moments. Finally, she spoke.
• “I guess it’s cuz I might let someone down. It doesn’t matter who it is, I’m just afraid I’ll let them
• down.”
• “You care a lot for people, don’t you Miss?” She grimaced slightly.
• “I wouldn’t say that I care a lot for people. It’s more like… I have a standard that I want to maintain in others’ eyes? Maybe. Yeah. That’s probably the best way to put it.” She didn’t even seem certain about that.
• “Well, I’m certain that you’ve got your reasons for feeling the ways that you do, but I’ve learned through my years of being here that sometimes you should just ignore what others say. Maybe they say something rude to you, or they don’t listen to you. In those cases, sometimes it’s best to make sure you yourself are okay. If you’re not okay, then you shouldn’t be listening to them in the first place. Always make sure you’re doing alright first, because you’re the most precious person for yourself.” The woman seemed to contemplate the advice. She placed a bill down on the stand’s desk before pushing herself out of the stool and sighing.
• “Um, are you okay, Miss?” A sigh was her initial response.
• “My name’s Suisei.” Miko blinked several times.
• “I… I see. Are you alright, Suisei-san?” Another sigh. Miko felt her heart stinging. She knew she hadn’t done her job, hadn’t guided this woman toward her path. It hurt to fail at something she had so much certainty in.
• “I mean, I’m not doing worse than before, so I guess I’m doing alright.” Miko looked at the bill Suisei had placed on her desk.
• “Suisei-san, this is more than I need for the service. If you’ll wait a moment, I’ll go get change from-”
• “Keep it. I know I’m not making sense right now, so that’s for troubling you with my nonsense.” Read like an open book. The roles had been reversed ever since the woman had sat down.
• Suisei began walking toward the torii gate. She crossed under it, raising her hand in a wave to the miko behind her. Miko clutched her hands to her chest, the bill heavy in them. She hoped the woman would return, if not for any other reason than to assure Miko she hadn’t gotten worse.
• That night, Miko prayed for the woman’s safety. She prayed for Suisei to find the help she needed, and she prayed that her tormented mind would be calmed sooner rather than later.