2019-11-21 - Lord Brother Is Watching You

Title: Lord Brother Is Watching You
Summary: Mikoto stays underground for Obon.
Who: Mikoto Minagi, The Obsidian Lord
Where: The Obsidian Palace
OOC - IC Date: 2019-11-21 - throughout Obon

It's cold, in the Obsidian Palace, but Mikoto's Lord Brother has given her warm clothes. She put on her school blazer, today, in hopes that he would let her go to school, but...

... he pays no notice to her efforts.

She forgot her phone in that blazer pocket, the last time she went to school. When she feels the vibration of it chiming a message at her side, she at first pulls it out, but - but /now/ he looks over and takes notice, with a curious little noise of prompting.

"... it wasn't turned off," Mikoto explains, tone muted, and she fixes the issue without looking at the text. It takes a moment of nervous fumbling. She still hasn't quite figured out how to use it. It means she sees the girl who sent the message, at the alerts along the top of the screen - her phone, obviously, is not locked by any key code - and it only brings more sorrow to her eyes.

He already told her that replying to those messages would only make her sad, and clearly her feelings prove him right, so she knows he wouldn't approve of her trying. It's fine, she tells herself, no matter her first response to the message. She doesn't need to talk to anyone.

"Hmm," he hums acknowledgement, and closes his eyes again.

...---...

Mikoto sits beside her Lord Brother on his long throne, and together they eat fluffy pink cake, from fancy plates with silver forks. It's something Mikoto eats slowly, even though she knows that the food is good.

And she knows her Lord Brother is making sure she's taken care of, and she's happy he's so considerate, really.

She might not be smiling, but she really is grateful.

Even though they're down here, while the screens above play out Obon's celebrations...

... and there's a conversation which keeps playing through her mind.

'Did your Lord Brother ever take you to festivals when you were younger?'
'No. Never came down from the mountain, so... never went to stuff like this. But it's okay! When I find Lord Brother, we can go together!'

She thinks: she must be wrong. Her Lord Brother wants her to be happy. If she just tries, she's sure...

Mikoto swallows her courage and a piece of cake, and looks up to her Lord Brother. He smiles to her, and to her eyes he is a picture of kindness.

"Could we... go to Obon?" Mikoto ventures, hopeful. "We could... float lanterns, and..." What else is left unsaid as her boldness fails her, because she looks up to him and she sees regret in his eyes.

He points out, gently: "But you're not feeling well, Mikoto."

"Oh..." Mikoto looks back down to her cake, and she should be happy her Lord Brother is looking out for her. Still, her voice is downcast as she cedes, "yes."

She pokes at her cake with her fork, and with the edge of the tines carves the character of 'Grandfather' into the pink frosting.

It is the great wound between them, the man who raised them both since they were young, the man who paid the greatest price to teach Mikoto how to serve her Lord Brother. They have not spoken of their Grandfather, what she did in the name of the Obsidian Lord's law. Indeed, they have not spoken of much at all.

He does not speak of their passed ancestor now, either, and perhaps it is a kindness.

It's for her own good, Mikoto tells herself, even as that delicious cake tastes like ashes in her mouth.

...---...

There is nothing here but the Lord and his screens. Without sunlight, it is difficult to say how much time has passed; the screens do not always broadcast, after all. Hours bleed into each other, naps in comfort and waking hours spent in contemplation, time with her Lord Brother and time she must leave him to his thoughts. Mikoto sits on the cold black stone of the dais, Miroku's case cradled in her arms, and so she is left with nothing but reflecting on the errors which led her to be kept safe here.

She tries not to think of the festival, as the celebrations finish; her gaze stays low. Certainly her Lord Brother does not involve her in casual conversation. They are far too close to need words to express themselves to each other; idle chatter is a conceit of Tokyo, and they are not from Tokyo.

He watches a girl in heartbreak on the screens above, smiling, and he does not share the details of his plots with his enforcer. She does not need to know. He is clever. She is not.

She traces a pattern on the cool ground with a finger, and she misses her cat friends and she misses the people she can't call her friends any more, too. She has stopped reaching for any hope that she could go to the surface; she knows now that her only contribution to Obon will be trying to ruin it for Mai, and all those other girls. She doesn't know how long he will keep her down here - this time. Until she's feeling better, surely.

But she doesn't precisely feel... sick...

Surely her Lord Brother knows best.

But the way Mikoto feels bad - it's that sadness which dulls everything to fatalistic options, and Mikoto can still remember what she told Eri, when she was taken by that same sorrow. She thinks - with sluggish difficulty, but she thinks - that if only she could go up to Tokyo, if only she could talk to the people she hurt so much, maybe things could get better.

She wishes... she could see if they're okay. She doesn't remember too well, but Mai sounded so... betrayed...

But these little hopes and flights of fancy, playing through her mind, there's no way they could happen.

She is listless, as she looks down to the cold stone. He's so kind, but he knows everything: he must know she doesn't like it down here. He is gentle and warm, but he keeps telling her she's unwell, when that's not the way she feels bad...

It's so hard to figure out what's real.

She must be unwell, because he said so. She must not mind it here, because she wants to be close to him.

She doesn't want to think he'd punish her just for trying to speak up. She keenly wants to believe he wouldn't - but there's this little part of her which still thinks perhaps this is not just care and concern.

A part which can't help but remember...

'Tell them that you don't like what they did or said, and see if they're willing to stop. If they don't....then maybe it's a problem after all.'
'But what if they don't get it?'
'If they 'don't get it' - if you tell them to stop, and they keep going anyway...it doesn't matter if it's a sparring match, talking with words, or even cooking. Refusing to listen like that means they're in the wrong, and you should make- ...and you should get out of there, if you can.'

Mikoto looks to her Lord Brother standing tall, and she knows she cannot get out of here. Even if she could defy his orders and leave, she couldn't. This is what she always wanted. She could never turn her back on him now. Not when he needs her. Not when he believes in her. Not when he loves her. No matter what Mai said - even though /Mai/ said it - he cannot be in the wrong, because he is not wrong, not ever.

... even so, even though he's with her...

... she feels so desperately lonely.

If this is a game of control, Mikoto thinks, she's lost. She's lost - she is lost - and there's nothing she can do. Her mind is so sure there is nothing she can do, as it pushes Mai's advice out of sight with all the others. No, she belongs here, and she'll stay here until he's satisfied. He knows best. He is the arbiter - the Lord - the patriarch.

Her beloved Lord Brother.

Even if she's not happy, Mikoto can hold on to that. All she needs... is to hold on to that.