Can One Wander for an Atonement

Momiji Nanoka — her name, Nanoka, reflected the seventh day and its deity. She's the one that birthed Ichiha who's not long after her birth had her father died in car crash accident.

Ichiha was the name her father had chosen. It carried the meaning of pure joy, the joy of finally having a child after years of waiting. That joy, however, was near-lasting. Nanoka became a single mother almost as soon as her daughter entered the world.

Nanoka would often work hither and thither. Exerting to keep the house afloat. She allowed herself allowances from his sides of family, though each allowance weighed heavily on her. In contrast with the increasingly preoccupied job and her kid starting to go to school. She found herself seemly distraught, longing of the time she has lost with her kid.

Her work changed with time, not in form but in weight. The hours grew longer, her mind less clear, her body slower to recover. Her boss pushed her beyond what she could manage. At the same time, her daughter’s growing depression began to surface, and Nanoka’s efficiency at work declined. She no longer met the company’s quotas. But just once, her boss noticed the strain in her face. With an uncharacteristic hesitation, he told her to take leave and attend to her family.

Now she walked along the barren street of the midday. Most people were at work or in school; those who remained were elderly, moving slowly, they probably shopped for daily supplies or wandered with no sense of urgency. It was logy day through and thorough. Her feet, too, carrying her forward at an unhurried pace, her eyes traced the familiar scenery that has its own life. Her thoughts, however, remained fixed on her daughter and her wellbeing.

She recalled the days she had managed to spend with Ichiha. They were few. Each memory carried the same quiet shame. Whenever she looked at her daughter, she felt it again. The knowledge that she had not been there enough. In elementary school, Nanoka had visited her often. She had watched Ichiha learn to smile at others, to speak politely, to stand among her classmates. But the bonds never held. There were no lasting friendships, only the thin, fragile smiles of acquaintances.

---§---

When she taught her daughter how to ride a bike, Ichiha crashed into a girl.

The girl is roughly the same age as her. She had short hair tied into two small bunches at the sides of her head. Her glasses fell to the ground, one lens cracking on impact. Ichiha meanwhile got her head hit the floor. Muttering and dithering, she kept saying sorry as she cried. It was an impish scene, one that drove a quiet ache into her mother’s heart.

"It's okay, I'll get it fixed. Hey, do I know you?" she asked, though the glasses remained slightly skewed, her vision clearly blurred.

Ichiha went silent. She sniffled, her nose red, her gaze lingering somewhere unfocused, no longer crying like a child, but not calm either.

The mother took the off-chance: "Oh— Sakuya, right? You must be Ichiha classmate!"

Sakuya turned toward the source of the voice, then back to Ichiha, trying to gather anything recognizable beyond a blurry shape. She decided it was not worth the effort and simply offered her hand.

"Hey, Ichiha! I haven't seen you!"

In common parlance, she was a kid that bore the resemblance to a clumsy social naïveté that would often appear in manga. One that would show herself as '8D' chibi face when there was some kind of interjection in place of actual story developments.

"Hey, uh… Sakuya…"

“What are you doing here, Sakuya?” Nanoka asked.

"My mother made me buy the things on this list," Sakuya said, holding out the grocery list she had been clutching the entire time.

"In this park?"

"My house is across the park."

"Oh. I see. Wow! You're young and you already did your mother chore?" Nanoka remarked.

But her daughter reaction was different: "Alone? In this park?"

"Ahh." A girl this young shouldn't be in this street. she thought. "What about this," she said aloud. "We’ll help you with the list. You can help too, dear."

"Ahh, umm, ehhh," she stammered.

"Come on," her mother coaxed, gently pushing her shoulder. "Hey, are Sakuya allowed to ride your bike?"

"Bike! I love bike! I wish I had a bike!" Sakuya jumped at Nanoka bid.

"But—"

"You're good," Nanoka cut in. "Let's go, this is also part of your practice."

Ichiha tried to object, but the words never formed from her mouth. She decided to accept it, turning it as a change she needed to make.

Sakuya quickly took the oppurtunity and stood on the foot pegs installed at the sakura-finished bike. She placed her hands on Ichiha’s shoulders, which made her shudder for a brief moment.

"Let's go!" Sakuya shouted with excitement, punching the air above her. The bike wobbled from her movement, but quickly recovered from when Ichiha pedalled her bike.

Nanoka trailing behind with light step, evidently Ichiha bike was moving slowly. "Keep pedalling faster and faster if you don't want to fall!" She instructed, placing a hand on Sakuya’s back.

Because of the bike, Sakuya reached her destination sooner than she would have on foot. She thanked them, though both Nanoka and Ichiha followed her inside.

It was a small, normal family-run store tucked into the neighbourhood.

"Alright dear, park your bike there, ensure the bar is locked tight and wait for Sakuya to come down first," she coached, some energy already wilted from her.

Sweat was visible on her skin as she exhaled. She looked over the list Sakuya had given her. It was a normal daily run: vegetables like carrots, enoki, cabbage, and spinach; meat stock; dairy products such as cheese and milk; spices, among other items.

Nanoka took care of the ordering. Meanwhile, Sakuya and Ichiha fetched what was displayed outside. They moved with quiet efficiency until good two-ten minutes passed.

"Yeah, that is everything." Nanoka said, recounting the groceries from the list that had been given to Sakuya, all has been crossed. "Alright, here's the money—"

"Hey, kid! Don’t steal that!" the shopkeeper suddenly shouted at a boy behind the counter. Startled, he bolted out the door.

"Sorry, he sometimes does that…" the shopkeeper said, scratching their head.

"Is the kid live here?" Nanoka asked, bemused.

"Not really, but he would often come here to get himself food. Don't worry, I give him some. But stealing is absolutely not what I want the kid to be," the shopkeeper grumbled.

By a glance, the boy had looked frazzled and unkempt, he might not have home at all. Nanoka felt a twinge of pity, wanted to give him something. For that she got herself some rice snacks as a gift, but he was nowhere to be found, so she put aside her philanthropy.

---§---

They both pedalled for solid minutes, trekking on the park. Nanoka though, sadly she doesn't have a lot of energy to keep up. Her breath was shallow, legs burned, sweat had run down from her forehead. For that reason, she hadn't realized Ichiha screaming until it was too late.

She snapped back and grabbed Sakuya. Ichiha swerved in nigh; losing balance, the tire crushed her foot as she tumbled onto the pavement.

She had hit someone again.

Ichiha teeth visibly clenched, yet mumbled and mumbled, clearly shaken by the realization that she must'd yet again hit someone. She sputtered through the pain, winching as the bike tube pressed against her foot.

Nanoka eyes, went wide. The person Ichiha had hit, who's on the ground now. It was the same boy that tried to steal at the grocery store. Not now, though. She quickly lifted the bike off Ichiha and helped her to her feet: "You okay?"

Nanoka grabbed the Betadine and cotton that she kept and gently dabbed it where there are bruises.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't careful."

The kid was just sitting on his butt, staring at them, looking perplexed. He wasn't scratched — thankfully — since Ichiha swerved before him. But colour drained from his faces regardless.

Nanoka leaned down and grab the rice snack from the fallen bike. Then whispered to her daughter, "hey, give this snack, as an apology."

Ichiha take hold of bag filled with rice snacks. She took a step forward, bearing the pain from her bruised leg as she slowly offered the snacks.

No, it was thrusted forward in a flash. Her face painted in embarassment as the content bobbed inside. She said again and again that she is sorry, sorry and sorry and sorry.

"It's okay," the boy assured. "You had no control of the bike, your mother seems to keep pushing you and in a state of trance while you're there dumbfounded not knowing what to do. But this," he yanked the snack. "Food will do, thank you very much whoever you are, however I need to leave now, so once again thank you."

---§---

Coming back to her senses at the present, that was when Ichiha introduced to Sakuya. After the incident the boy left without much saying word other than that and they never met again. Soon after Ichiha and Sakuya rode bike together since they live close, that persists until she graduated to the same school with Sakuya now owning her own bike.

Then highschool, where they need to tow their bike to the train because of the distance to their school. Which evidently is also the same, pretty much childhood friends.

The sun now three-quarter halfway to the horizon. While the sky hasn't yet changed colour, people — specially those who has either had job on the field, small work-hour or work early — already pouring out to the street. Nanoka had spent half her day contemplating. She sighed.

She turned heels toward her daughter school, wanting to meet her. Yet another sighs escaped. She doesn't know if she could reasonably meet with her on the school, she would've waited outside at the very least. Thankfully it was close to commerce district so she went to one of the restaurants.

She was greeted with strong smell of green onion spring and umami flavour. Multiple guest drinking and open kitchen where the chef prepared their speciality. Walnut-coloured wooden board on the chair, table, lamp, flooring and ceiling. It was authentic Izakaya experience through and through.

Among the half-empty, half-full restaurant, she spotted a two-top table that was perfect. Complete with potted succulent and overstayed drinking jar. Far from everyone conversation that could be overheard.

She lurched from her position almost knocking the plant. Taking a deep breath to herself as she counted the times in her eyes.

"Is this seat taken?" A woman said, carrying a dish of tofu lacquered with reddish sauce.

Nanoka splayed forward. "No, no, no. But why this seat? You can pick—"

"You're Nanoka right?"

Nanoka struggled to continue, she doesn't know the lady infront of her who somehow came to know of her name. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Oh, that was quite hurtful that you forget about me," she said putting arm to her heart

"No, no, no. I am just… well, I am just not feeling well right now."

"I see… don't worry. I don't think we've met before. I've seen you on work though, my name is Nozomi," she smiled, offering a hand that was then shook. "Actually, I've seen you on the boss office. Then I see you come into this place, so I decided to talk to you."

Nanoka put her head down.

"I'm sorry with your daughter," she said in an obligatory sorry voice.

Nanoka cocked her head in surprise. "Wait, how much you've heard."

"Pretty much all of it."

"I'm sorry you've heard all that."

"Why? Come about this is the only reason I've seek you."

"Yeah…"

"Can you tell me more about your daughter?"

She gulped, a twisting feeling tightening in her chest. And with that, a long hour of talking about her daughter. How she kept blaming herself. How all of it loop back. The event that had just transpired before. She pretty much gushed out everything she had long held inside her heart.

Nozomi was a great listener too. Nanoka would get more comfortable and spill more about her daughter's life. Nozomi occasionally feed more with question and menial answer.

It had gone on so long that the clock now read five o’clock. Nanoka flinched once she came aware of that. She hadn't yet ordered anything or been eating at all for the past hours. But most importantly, she missed her daughter that she meant to pick up.

"I'm sorry, I'm late," she quickly grabbed her belongings and hurried out, hoping he might at least intersect her on the way to the bike racks. Unlikely given she usually took the train.

Wait.

A smile slipped across Nozomi face.

A tinge of foreboding caused her stomach to growled incessantly. Colon within it twisting in and out. Hunger and fear knotting together until the pain forced her to stop. Her legs locked. Her hands trembled.

"Today will be bountiful," Nozomi said, speeding toward and seized her arm as she carried her.

Everyone else was frozen stiff and then sagged into viscous sludge. The sky turned red and black, like swarmed in locust, it was so red the road mirrored it. A liquid with similar consistency of a gash spewed from the sky.

But she has no time to be weirded by it. She screamed and screamed when she got dragged around. Suddenly weightless, then impossibly heavy, then back weightless as they zip around the building in blinding arcs.

"Need to lure that kid out," she said.

---§---

Toru flinched, he felt something awry looming from the distance. He stopped her talking and start running.

"Wait, where you're go—" Ichiha voice was cut short.

Or rather sat frozen. The times, it doesn't tick. Everybody is not moving. They instead lament into the gooey sludge. Forming a sea of it. The sky swarmed in red and spewing similar substance. This is bad.

It is what he wished for. But it happened forcefully.

"Finally, I've got you!" A voice ringed into his head.

"Who are you?" Toru spin by the feet, searching for the source of the sound.

"Neither there nor yon. I am THE Saintess's Grace."

An instinct kicked in, he used the butt of his arm to defend the right side, followed by a slashing spark of steel. He was knocked from her position, but quickly recovered to ward more and more attack.

"What is your problem!" He shouted. Honestly, he had no clue what is happening at all.

Finally, she appeared in his view. A woman without much of an apt description. And carrying with her… the mother of Ichiha.

"What are you doing with her!" He shouted, enraged. Human shouldn't be involved with Liminal problem. It was already a problematic with this whole event. And when she became the so-called grace by the cult, now…

Laugh cut it short, a maniacal high-pitched laugh. She lurched her upper body forward and cocked her head. A grin of determination showing from her, a staff— no a scythe was in her hand the entire time. It was equally red, blending in with the sky.

"I need her," she pointed with her scythe toward the freezing Ichiha. Then the end of tip swayed toward Toru, "and you," she promulgated.

"You must be the one that created those crystal?"

He grimaced his teeth, "and?"

"Work for us"

"Sorry, but I already had a client that I do not absolutely want to be in the bad side," he said, motioning his arm.

"Then death awaits those who dare to cross our path!" She raptured, pressing with her advantage on speed.

Toru used his instinct to defend himself. Almost no chance given for counterattack as she zips around the school ground. Destroying the earth in her manic wake. There's almost no characteristic to make out of her zipping because of how fast she is. Leaving only a slight trace of smoke and the aforementioned destruction.

"Well, I suppose…" she put a long tutting noise, with index finger tapping her chin mockingly. The mother she towed before now gone. "You must be pretty hard nut to crack," she shrugged, the scythe followed with her as she began twirling it to the side.

Surges of electricity raced from the surrounding building, sapping everything dry and died. Concentrating it to the scythe behind her. It glowed brilliantly, a faint golden cream colour.

She ran, straight at her target. Yuuki was her target. He tried to defend himself, despite that — despite all the screaming she threw out meanwhile.

They clashed.

The gust of wind their collision generated shattered the very foundation of the earth. The ground, long engulfed in the sludge made of human remains, spewed its grotesque form forth. Yuuki braced himself, his incantation failing him. He kept getting pushed back by the sheer power of that electrified scythe.

The dust cleared. Yuuki gasped. Between him and her, was Ohto taking all of it in brunt force. That meant what Yuuki had experienced is halved — or even less — yet compared to him, Ohto stood valiantly.

"Run!"

And so Toru ran, trusting is part of what made friends. He sprinted away and found it easier. Without a jab his movement must have been enhanced under this event, a dominion gift. While Ohto keep the Saintess' Grace at bay, ensuring safety for his friend. Yet, Toru found difficulty on trudging around the masses made of human matter.

Ohto, who had been keeping her busy, was starting to show signs of wear. His shirt deteriorated more with each lightning bolt that bombarded him.

"Well, look like this could be fun!" She screamed after 1-2 minutes of trying to force her way.