Hiyuki

Futures' Tithe

[Spacetrek Collective: Classified Archive] Interview Dossier: Hiyuki Due to multifaceted considerations, we have foregone a truly comprehensive evaluation of the representative from Ashinohara—the Miko of Flaming Sakura. The majority of the intelligence gathered herein is based on her personal testimony. In the recorder's professional estimation, corroborated through subsequent cross-referencing, she appears to harbor no intention of concealing any information regarding her background. "After all, information regarding the 'Miko of Eternal Flaming Sakura' can be found in just about any Ashinohara elementary school textbook..." According to Hiyuki's own account, the source of her Forte is the "Suzu," a Legacy Talisman worn on her right wrist. Hiyuki describes the Suzu as follows: It grants the bearer the ability to perceive and utilize "future possibilities" of oneself, though it does not allow for direct communication with these "shadows of future possibility." The freezing power she often wields in combat also stems from the "Suzu." "Verified via official Ashinohara reports: The Legacy Talismans are five relics left behind by the Sentinels, distributed among the internal factions of Ashinohara for safekeeping." "Among them, the Suzu is described as granting its bearer the power to 'draw upon the future.'" Consequently, it is determined that the fundamental source of her exceptional combat prowess remains her own inherent skill. However, the "futures" available for her to draw upon are not infinite. Out of concern for her physiological lifespan, aggressive deployment of her abilities is strongly advised against. "Investigation confirms that every Miko of Flaming Sakura has shared a singular cause of death: vanishing from the battlefield without a trace following excessive use of the Suzu."

The subject's Rabelle's Waveform diagram exhibits an elliptical oscillation pattern with a stable Time Domain representation. No abnormal fluctuations were observed. Examination results are determined to be within normal parameters. Current Overclocking threshold is exceptionally high, and subject stability remains robust. There is no risk of Overclocking, and the subject has no prior history of Overclocking. However, a course of psychological intervention is recommended. "This miko... How should I put this..." "Ashinohara textbooks never show her face, but they're clear about one thing. She is the strongest living warrior in all of Ashinohara." "And yet, with all that combat, her readings stay perfectly stable. Something about that just doesn't sit right..." "I get your concern, but the data is clear. There's not a single irregularity." "...Then what about those shadows? Like parallel-universe versions of herself from some movie?" "Hardly. It must be the Suzu's power. Just as the Ashinohara records describe, it allows her to 'draw upon the future' to a certain extent."

The first time Hiyuki heard the truth of her own past, it spilled from Gyokuro's drunken lips. Hiyuki's mouth tightened. Without a word, she poured herself a glass of the bitter liquor.

"Hiyuki... My dear Hiyuki..."
"You can't do this. You can't be the damn Miko of Flaming Sakura... Your life was never meant to be like this!"

Hiyuki's eyes narrowed. If the people of Ashinohara saw their usually dignified and poised Miko of Flaming Sakura acting like this behind closed doors...

The second hand ticked. The minute hand followed. At last, the hour hand lurched forward. By Ashinohara time, this very moment marked Hiyuki's transition into adulthood. She sighed and downed the drink in one burning gulp.

"You managed. You think I cannot?"

The liquor scorched her throat and settled like lead in her slight frame. So this was what they called the "drink of adulthood." Its taste, she decided, was hardly worth the wait. Hiyuki stood and draped a blanket over Gyokuro's muttering form. She lingered in the corner for a long moment. At last, she stepped forward, tucked the edges tight, and closed the door softly behind her.

The next morning, Gyokuro's fury toward the steward tasked with the Legacy Talisman's succession rang out loud enough to be heard two streets away.

The Suzu's power lay in "drawing upon the future." In simple terms, it meant every use exacted a toll from the bearer's remaining lifespan. In the worst case, it meant a successor who inherited the bell today might vanish into nothingness in their very first battle against a Threnodian. Because the price was so high, successors were usually chosen early. Hiyuki had stayed at Gyokuro's side for more than a decade. Even if Gyokuro refused to name her... who else could possibly be chosen?

The steward, unable to handle Gyokuro's temper, could only offer a strained, placating smile. "Even if not Hiyuki, surely you must name someone, Lady Miko."

Gyokuro fell silent for a few breaths. She sighed, cleared her throat, and prepared to resume her tirade.

It was Hiyuki who finally opened the door, ending the farce.

"For years, I have journeyed with you through Ashinohara. I know what each duty demands."
"I have mastered every art a miko must know. The weaving of charms, the ceremonial dances—all from teachers of your own choosing."
"Only I can ensure the name of the Flaming Sakura remains untarnished, Gyokuro... No. Lady Miko."

Gyokuro's brow furrowed. She waved a hand dismissively.

"You've learned it all, have you? Then don't you realize the Suzu will be the death of you?"
"I was an orphan you took in. My family lies buried beneath the snow from that Threnodian attack. I have no attachments left."

The room fell suffocatingly quiet. The only sound was the raspy, obsessive scrape of Gyokuro's thumb as she rubbed the bell on her wrist. She tried to speak, but in the end, no words came.

The days following Hiyuki's succession were inevitably frantic. Where once she had simply walked in Gyokuro's shadow, she now found the weight of every duty resting on her own shoulders.

Ashinohara had long suffered under the Threnodian's shadow, forcing the land to weave its very survival around the mikos. As the bearer of the Suzu, Hiyuki's status was as uniquely sacred as it was heavy, and her jurisdiction covered the entirety of Ashinohara. She became a nomad of necessity, racing between different places to assist the local mikos and turn the tides of battle.

Yet a miko was as much a living symbol as a blade. Wherever people would gather, a miko must appear to remind them why they fought. The Miko of Flaming Sakura was no exception. Hiyuki carried both burdens well. Perhaps it was because she had learned each duty at Gyokuro's side since childhood, combat and ceremony alike had long since become second nature. The only thing missing was Gyokuro's specific Flaming Sakura swordsmanship. Gyokuro had stubbornly refused to pass down the forms, even going so far as to distance herself from Hiyuki.

"Fine. If you will not teach me, I will learn in secret. One day, I will master it. One day."

But that day never came.

"The Suzu allows the bearer to draw upon the future, and a successor who inherits the Suzu today might vanish into nothingness during their very first battle with a Threnodian..."

Hiyuki couldn't remember the words the steward whispered when placing the Suzu in her hands. She couldn't remember the clumsy way she tied it to her wrist, mimicking a gesture she had seen so many times. She couldn't recall the weather that day, or the face of the person who handed her the small wooden box containing Gyokuro's legacy.

By the time the world rushed back into focus, she was sitting alone in the hollowed halls of the seat of Flaming Sakura, clutching the wish slip that had been inside the box.

Blood froze in her chest. A creeping frost left her fingertips numb. Inch by inch, Hiyuki dragged herself to that familiar corner of the room and curled up. She had crumpled the wish slip earlier. Now she smoothed it flat.

"...I see."
"...I accept your wish."
"...There will never be another Miko of Flaming Sakura."

"Lady Hiyuki, you have served as the Miko of Flaming Sakura for a century now. If we are to renew the contract..."
"It is of no consequence."
"Then, as per our previous arrangement... for how many years shall we set the renewal?"
"Fill it as you wish."
"I did not expect you to be quite so like the previous Miko... Ahem. Very well. As you wish, Miko of Eternal Flaming Sakura."

The steward bowed and withdrew, closing the door with practiced reverence. Hiyuki noted that the staff accompanying him had changed three times over the decades. She shook her head, eyes narrowing as they fell upon the envelope on her desk. After a pause, she reached instead for a teacup that had long since gone cold.

"Just like the previous Miko... am I?"

How long had it actually been since she took up the title?
Long enough that "Hiyuki" was now a fixed entry in Ashinohara's history books.
Was it a long time?
Not long enough.

True to the fortune lot she had inherited that year, Hiyuki had used her own strength to prove a silent vow: There will never be another Miko of Flaming Sakura. Gradually, the voices urging her to select a successor had faded. The Office of Legacy Talismans now treated its visits to the shrine as a mere formality. Even the steward, she suspected, believed a successor unnecessary. To them, Hiyuki had become the title itself.

Yet Hiyuki often heard a voice. It wasn't the grating, persistent lure of the Fractsidus. It was a peaceful murmur stating facts plainly in her ear.

"Hiyuki, you have held on for so long. But your enemy, the Threnodian, has a far longer lifespan. It will wait until you die, until every miko, and every successor of every miko, has passed into memory."
"Does this path of resistance truly have an end?"

Cold tea is always the most bitter. The over-steeped acridity clung to her tongue, making each breath feel heavy. Hiyuki tapped a finger against the envelope on the desk. Instantly, a layer of frost raced across its surface. With one more light touch, the unopened Fractsidus seal shattered into crystalline dust.

Hiyuki rose and called out to the child who had volunteered to help clean the shrine, reminding her to stay vigilant and watch for intruders while she was away. Her lips curled into a smile as she ruffled the girl's hair and pressed a protective charm into her small palm.

"Lady Miko, where are you going to help this time?"
"Honami. I will be back soon. Keep this charm with you during this time, all right?"

Hiyuki waved goodbye to the little girl. As she turned to leave, the bell on her wrist caught the light, shining as brilliantly as ever.

The people of Ashinohara had long grown accustomed to the distortions wrought by the Threnodian. Survival was a matter of routine: seek shelter, wait for the local miko to deploy, and if the situation spiraled, wait for the recovery teams and the Miko of Flaming Sakura to arrive.

To Hiyuki, this felt like just another fight among thousands. She cut through the monsters with practiced efficiency, checking the integrity of the barrier as she always did. As the civilians emerged from the shelters, parents pointed her out to their children with reverent relief. "Look, that's Lady Miko of Flaming Sakura."

Hiyuki offered a slight nod in response. She stepped over a fallen "No Entry" sign and turned back toward the barrier to finish her sweep.

Focus. Strike. Sheathe... Hm?

The blade passed through the air as it always did. Yet something was different. Subtle, but unmistakable.

Hiyuki reexamined the entire barrier. Everything appeared intact, yet a lingering, visceral wrongness clung to her fingertips. She released her hilt. Flexed her wrist. Pressed her fingers together—

A single drop of iridescent black mire welled from her skin. It pooled in the creases of her palm before dripping to the ground, spreading silently beneath her feet.

Hiyuki drew her blade. Frost snapped into existence around her. First, contain it. Evacuate the civilians. Then find a way to—

She turned, but the cry died in her throat. There was nothing before her. It was as if the air itself vanished. For one frozen moment, Hiyuki could not breathe.

Honami was gone.

Aside from the shattered sign at her feet and a trace of mud creeping up the hem of her dress, there was nothing left.

Hiyuki reached out, but her hand recoiled on its own. She gasped for breath, but there was no oxygen. It was as if the atmosphere itself had been erased from existence. She raised her blade to strike, but found no enemy to sever. Only a faint, residual frequency remained, proof that the Threnodian had acted, for a fraction of a second, with power never before recorded.

According to Ashinohara's records, Honami had been pulled into another dimension at that moment. Even after a desperate appeal to the Spacetrek Collective for their most advanced tracking technology, not a single trace could be found.

When the others finally led Hiyuki away, she was still mindlessly rubbing the bell on her wrist, her mind trapped in that moment of shock.

Was this silent disaster her fault?
Of course it was her fault. As the Miko of Flaming Sakura, she had failed to protect Honami.
And of course, it was not her fault. Against the power of a Threnodian, a single person didn't matter—even one who could draw a million futures to safeguard the present.

Hiyuki returned to the Flaming Sakura. She took the protective charm from the child at the gate, forcing a ghost of a smile. Then she walked slowly to her room and pushed open the door. There, sitting quietly on her desk, was the envelope she had destroyed.

"Hiyuki, oh Hiyuki... Does this path truly have an end?"

Hiyuki didn't linger on the Fractsidus's many offers. No sane person would collaborate with those who viewed human lives as mere expendable fuel.

Instead, she traveled across Ashinohara, leaving behind white paper birds infused with her own frequency. She instructed the local mikos that her mind was linked to these messengers, and should any insurmountable incident occur, she would be there the moment they crushed the bird.

The path of resistance against the Threnodians... it had to have an end. It had to.

It was then that Hiyuki heard word that the Spacetrek Collective was grappling with a critical lack of safety provisions for its expeditions. She saw an opportunity and proposed a "trade." She would ensure the safety of their exploration efforts, and in exchange, the Collective would forge her a blade using the pinnacle of Solaris technology. A weapon sharp enough to cleave through a Threnodian.

Hiyuki joined the Spacetrek Collective as part of the Special Response Force. The unit had once been large, but casualties mounted as Aleph-1 grew more active. So Hiyuki submitted a request, proposing that henceforth, she alone would handle Threnodian containment and ensure the safety of those conducting surveys.

When she first arrived here, the Collective was little more than a plot of foundation in the dirt. She watched as Lahai-Roi was built, step by step, and began to grasp the true measure of human potential. The facility's construction was a miracle, perhaps the greatest engineering feat in the history of Solaris. Yet it came not from gods, nor from any single hero. It was built, brick by brick, by people across all Solaris who dared to dream.

"Lucilla."
"Hmm?"

Lucilla casually pulled a bottle of fine liquor from beneath the desk, a specialty from Ashinohara. A student hoping to pass their finals had left it at one of Hiyuki's frequent haunts, tucked under a neat note asking for the miko's blessing.

Hiyuki sighed, set out two glasses, and pushed one toward the restless Lucilla.

"The Spacetrek Collective... it was built to explore the stars beyond Solaris, was it not?"
"That's the idea."
"How fares the progress?"
"Ugh..." Lucilla drained her drink in one go. "Still a long way off. Research is hitting walls everywhere, and the higher-ups keep breathing down our necks with impossible demands."

Hiyuki rubbed the bell on her wrist, her eyes downcast.

"Have any of you ever wondered... where the end of this path is?"

Lucilla toyed with her empty glass, then gently clinked it against Hiyuki's.

"There is no end, Hiyuki. Just like what you're trying to do... No end."
"But we have to keep moving forward anyway."
"Not to reach a finish line, but to take one more step alongside the people standing next to us."

Hiyuki remained silent for a long time. Finally, she gave a soft nod and raised her glass, drinking deeply. The liquor scorched her throat and settled like lead in her slight frame.

The bell on her wrist chimed—a solitary sound, but the Miko of Flaming Sakura would take her next step regardless.