“Haruka-papa?”
“Haruka-papa?”
“Haruka-papa!”
Haruka looked up from the scattered trout from last night’s grill. She set down her hashi and rose at eyebrow at her daughter. “Did you say something Sweetie?”
Hotaru pouted. “Haruka-papa, you told me it’s not polite to play with your food. You haven’t eaten anything.”
Haruka sighed wearily. “I’m not very hungry. Excuse me.”
The woman stepped up from the table and kissed her daughter’s forehead. She wastefully swept the remaining food in the garbage bin. Hotaru eyed her suspiciously.
“Are you feeling alright?”
There was no reply. Hotaru silently watched Haruka drift into a dreamy state as she dropped the dishes she had been rinsing into the basin. Her papa had been acting strange for nearly two weeks now. Something about her was changing.
The girl finished her meal, eying Haruka endlessly. She recognized the unmistakably grey aura surrounding Haruka, for it was the same hue as the one her father had produced. Hotaru smiled at the thought of the loving man and got up to hug Haruka. She did not react at first, but she began to slip into consciousness as Hotaru held her tighter.
“Haruka-papa, you said that we could go to the new museum today.”
Haruka rubbed her eyes. “I thought Setsuna was going to take you.”
Hotaru tugged her papa towards the door. “Setsuna-mama and Michiru-mama are shopping today,” she sighed. “Come on let’s go!”
Haruka agreed, pondered the situation of the broken dishes in the sink, and headed for the door.
***
“Don’t you think that this one looks sad?”
Haruka watched Hotaru lean over on the roped fencing to get a closer look at the small wooden carvings. She shook her head and pointed to the inscription to the side.
“These were dolls were given to women as a symbol of good fertility. They were worn on-” Haruka paused as she noticed Hotaru had already skipped over to another exhibit.
Haruka dodged through the lines of touring students to catch up with her daughter.
“Haruka-papa, I want to try this one!” Hotaru grinned and pointed anxiously towards the children’s archeological dig site. “Please can I try?”
Haruka began to comment on the girl’s age, but then she remembered how severely short her childhood had been cut.
“You have fun Sweetie. If you need anything, I’ll be at the mural display. I wanted to check with something.”
Haruka looked around cautiously, avoiding attention from the crowds, and hurriedly treaded towards the murals hall. Relishing in the seclusion of the area, she walked further on in the room. She passed numerous works on worn slabs of stone, stopping by each and suspiciously eying them, and then quickly dismissing them. At the end of the strangely uninhabited hall was where she stopped.
This modern recreation of an ancient mural of uncertain origin depicts a ritual to honor the gods. These young women were sacrificed for the purpose of-
Haruka ignored the rest of the text, instantly forgot what she had read, and leaned over the velvet-lined fencing as Hotaru had earlier done. It was definitely one of the murals from the dream temple. Haruka was trying to comprehend this phenomenon when she noticed a slight movement. Haruka rubbed her eyes only to see a more dramatic shift. The figures in the painting had turned to face her, momentarily releasing their previous obligation to their cohort.
Compelled by an unknown force, Haruka felt herself being drawn toward the mural. She climbed over the velvet-lined fencing, and found herself no long in the museum, but in the dream temple, or rather one of the temple’s murals. Haruka’s ears were greeted by the sound of lovemaking. Her eyes ran over each woman, counting thirty, but she assumed that there were more hidden underneath. Her body tensed with every moan, whimper, and scream, enjoying every moment and aspiring her own participation.
Join us
We are waiting
Haruka snapped back as she heard the rasping among the seductive calls of the women.
“Haruka-papa, I’m waiting.”
Haruka, startled, nearly jumped away from the mural, bumping into another viewer. She apologized hastily and scanned nervously for her child.
Hotaru stood a ways back, worriedly watching her papa. The ominous grey aura had vanished and been replaced by something that that was not an aura at all, but a pitch black apparition of her soul’s character. Hotaru momentarily kept her distance, but could not ignore the strange beauty surrounding Haruka. She flinched as Haruka noticed her amongst the crowd. Hotaru nervously played with the buttons on her black coat and spoke up.
“I’m ready to go, but did you want to see the murals some more?”
Hotaru felt awkward speaking to the one who had gained the public’s questioning attention. Haruka had been in front of a particular egyptian mural for an unreasonable amount of time.
“It’s very pretty-”
“Yes, it’s nice…I guess.”
Haruka ignored the peoples’ condescending glances and looked up at the brilliantly painted portait of Cleopatra. There was no mural in sight containing even the crudest depiction of an orgy. She rushed to the dark-haired girl and led her away from the stares by the hand.
“I’m sorry Hotaru, I’m just a little tired,” Haruka sighed.
The two stopped outside of the grand building. Haruka leaned over to kiss her daughter’s forehead. “I love you Hotaru.”
The girl smiled up at Haruka and returned her kindness with a tight hug to the waist. There could never be anything wrong with a person like that. She put Haruka’s newfound darkness aside and allowed herself to freely think that nothing would change how she felt about her.
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