"Are you…a Fallen Soul?"
As soon as Marcille asked that, various thoughts wailed up in Yuzuriha's mind. The word 'Fallen' brought a rush of memories from her past life. A reminiscent of her adoptive mother explaining the old ways.
She considered three possibilities of what Marcille meant by that question. What she was thinking was deeply rooted in Japanese culture: Buddhism and Shintoism.
In Buddhism, to fall was to descend. To spiral away from the path of enlightenment. One who clung too tightly to desire, to hatred, or to ignorance would sink into the six realms of suffering: perhaps reborn as a beast, or worse, as a demon in the Naraka realms.
Her adoptive mother had told her that truly falling was spiritual, the loss of one's self to karma's weight, becoming a being ruled by impulse, chained to samsara with no end in sight.
It sounded horrible, even now it still brought shivers to Yuzuriha's spine.
In Shinto, falling carried a different meaning. There were no demons in the same sense. Instead, there were impure spirits. Once-human souls who had become corrupted by sorrow, rage, or unfinished regret. Spirits that had turned into yokai or onryo, twisted echoes of who they used to be.
That was the horror of it, wasn't it?
To be Fallen meant you lost your place in the natural order. In Buddhist terms, you no longer moved forward on the Eightfold Path. In Shinto terms, you were no longer at peace with Kami, no longer in harmony with the flow of the world.
Those two cultures were the ones she could think of that were associated with the word, the third one was the infamous fallen angels in Christianity, but the odds of such were slim, especially because Yuzuriha wasn't an angel.
But then again, associating the concepts of her old world with this one was already ridiculous. She had warned herself not to do that before, if she wasn't pinned against her will, she definitely would have smacked herself right about now.
'Even so, I still can't ignore the word. Maybe in this world it has a certain meaning. I would ask Sawatari but she would be as clueless as I am, and the fact I haven't received any unknown memories could only mean Yor didn't know what a Fallen Soul was either'
Well that didn't matter now, even if she knew the answer it wouldn't do much for her in this situation.
Yuzuriha's lack of a response was starting to make Marcille grow restless, she could tell by the fluctuations of her astris.
She could feel the added pressure of the cold edge of the spear pressed against her neck. Despite its intentions, it didn't do much to intimidate Yuzuriha, especially because she could feel the hesitation in her grip.
Marcille wasn't certain of her conclusion, she was just testing the waters to see how she would respond. If only Yuzuriha could talk, she could perhaps de-escalate her current predicament.
"I asked you a question. Now answer it!"
'I would if I could!...but, wait…'
She would, but what would she say exactly? Simply saying no to an accusation has never been enough to relieve one of them. And being unable to talk didn't do her any favors, and just shaking her head wouldn't be too convincing either.
Plus there was also the fact that she didn't know what a 'Fallen Soul' meant in the context of this world.
'Ahh, I'm so screwed'
Marcille might have been hesitant, but if she managed to draw a final conclusion, one that would be bad for Yuzuriha, then she would indeed be screwed.
At least, that's what she thought.
The door suddenly flung open with a loud bang, and two figures rushed inside the room, slicing through the thick atmosphere like a blade.
'Huh?'
With her new acquired sense of vision, Yuzuriha saw two silhouettes composed completely out of radiant astris. Their eyes were probably wide open, and their breath was caught in their throats.
The first was Willow whose silhouette was a trembling pale green and Leo's was in jagged streaks of faded gold, sharp and uneven like broken glass.
As soon as their eyes met with Marcille, the pair froze like a deer in a wolf's shadow. Then, almost like they were in sync, they clasped their hands in front of them and lowered their bodies.
"We're sorry, big sis!"
They said in unison almost as if they had been preparing for this, although Willow's voice was a little louder compared to Leo's.
"We didn't think you'd find out so fast!"
"Willow, I told you to keep your big mouth shut!"
Leo snapped at the little girl without looking at her.
"I didn't! I kept my mouth shut. I didn't tell her anything!"
As the two continued to bicker, Yuzuriha felt Marcille slowly loosening her grip.
"Wait—what are you two talking about?"
By the tone of her voice, she must have been confused. The two paused, then glanced nervously toward Yuzuriha who was still pinned, and then at each other.
As the oldest of the two, Leo took responsibility and spilled the beans, the hue of his astris dimming with shame.
"We were out earlier and some guys cornered us in an alley. Two men actually, they just…showed up"
"Yor got hurt trying to protect us. Big bro Leo said not to say anything. B-but she was bleeding a lot!"
Willow continued, but after her, the room fell deathly silent.
After a few seconds, Marcille paused, and in an instant, the shift in her demeanor was visible. She went from aggression and dread into the soft embers of worry and regret. She dropped her spear with a clatter to the floor.
"Yor…!"
Letting go of Yuzuriha, Marcille immediately moved her trembling hands around her little sister's body, patting down her arms, shoulders, face, legs—trying to find a wound, a bruise or something.
"There's no blood. Where did they hit you? Did they use knives? Where—?!"
As hard as she searched, there was nothing. They also found nothing when they were cleaning themselves up. Yuzuriha couldn't explain it then, but now, she had a theory.
Yuzuriha's skin was smooth. Her body was frail, yes, but it was completely unmarked. Not even a scratch. As much as that should have been an indicator she was fine, Marcille was not satisfied.
"Yor, I'm sorry but to do this, I need you to sleep for a bit"
'What—?'
Before Yuzuriha could voice out her concerns, Marcille's two raised fingers had already tapped her forehead. Her consciousness fell heavy and before she knew it, everything had gone completely dark.
She passed out.