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i.
It took nothing more than Kyuubei's brief genderswitch and a trip to the shrine for Otae to change her mind. The wedding procession was visible from beyond the grounds, and she saw all her girlish dreams fulfilled in this.
Her coins rattled against the wooden beams and clinked as they landed on their siblings at the bottom, before Otae rattled the bells to rouse the spirits. Father, could you forgive me for leaving Shin-chan and our dojo behind? Because that would be her sacrifice.
It was merely a thought, idle perhaps, but one she had entertained since Kyuubei's first proposal.
ii.
Later, Otae reminded herself that Kyuubei's actual first proposal had involved asking Otae not for her hand in marriage, but to become Kyuubei's "golden turtle ride." Which was about as romantic as reminding Otae of the promise to become Kyuubei's left eye and expecting her to leap into her arms and simply leave her own life behind.
Perhaps, if Kyuubei had actually asked instead of assuming Otae would marry her and going ahead with the preparations, their reunion might have been more cheerful.
Had Otae been allowed more time to adjust to the idea, she might eventually have said yes.
iii.
If Kyuubei were to propose to her again, Otae wouldn't know how to answer. A certain attraction pulled her toward the other woman (although Otae was still uncertain whether or not to think of her as one), which had grown more pronounced during Kyuubei's temporary transformation, but didn't dwindle after she changed back.
She might just feel flattered by the attention lavished upon her, although Kyuubei was not alone in vying for Otae's affection. There were other, more unpleasant contenders.
It wasn't her heart that wavered, it was her family's future. Could she leave it all to chance— to Shin-chan?
iv.
Some decisions required lengthy deliberations, others were readily made.
If you would but ask me again, Otae thought. I know the answer now.
Kyuubei had learned not to pressure her, not to confront her with unwanted questions, but occasionally strange requests slipped off her tongue. She confused Otae's reticence with a demand for strength, so that she could protect Otae. As if Otae couldn't fend for herself.
"Promise me you won't marry someone else until I've become stronger. I don't want to lose you again while I'm gone."
"I'll wait."
Friends needed no promises to be there for one another.
v.
Friends. Was that how she still thought of them? Friends didn't consider marrying each other, did they?
This relationship had always meant more to Kyuubei. It was a goal, something to achieve and maintain. Otae's outlook had changed the moment her heart clogged her throat for this tall, handsome (albeit male) stranger and she realised it was Kyuubei. Her appearance was inconsequential. Everything was.
"I don't want your money or your status or your honour," she told the photograph. "You don't have to give any of that up for me. Nor do you have to become stronger. Just come back."
vi.
"Won't you reconsider asking?"
Kyuubei shook her head. "Tae-chan, I know you're worried about not being able to have children by marrying me, and I know I should feel the same. But, I want us to be together and I am certain we will work around this issue somehow. I mean, we don't even have to marry. We can be free of that constraint and still... be there for each other."
"Wouldn't that tarnish your reputation, living together with a woman you're not married to?"
"I am past caring. All I want is to stay by your side, nothing more."
vii.
Sometimes, even Kyuubei found the right words to trigger a reaction. Otae leapt in time with her heart, throwing her arms around the diminutive woman. The backdrop of lush plum blossoms paled in comparison to the shade of her cheeks.
"I couldn't be happier right now," she laughed, twirling among dancing petals the wind had plucked from the branches overhead. And she repeated it to Kondou, when he visited her at work, and not without a hint of malice, because her own delight blinded her to the misery of others.
Kondou understood. He'd never stood a chance against Kyuubei, anyway.
viii.
On her third sip, Otae peered over the rim of their shared sake cup. Kyuubei's nervousness was written on her brows and in her spine. Her formal robes were too heavy for their private ceremony.
Otae centered the cup on the low table separating them and asked, quite solemnly, "Would you take it off?"
She cupped Kyuubei's cheek, thumb stroking the black string that bisected her frown. Kyuubei averted her gaze. She grasped Otae's hand, disconnecting it from her eyepatch.
"There is no need for you to hide it. Or have already you forgotten that I am your left eye?"
ix.
Shinpachi cried when she moved out, tears of joy or so he said, because this time it was her own decision.
"You're welcome to train once I've revived the dojo, Ane-ue," he forced through half-sobs.
"Dummy," she answered. "I'll visit as a guest instructor."
Kondou cried too, but for different reasons. "Tae-san! What about all of our adventures together? Our budding romance?!"
"I don't understand what you're talking about, but I'm sorry if you thought I led you on, Kondou-san. You're a good man for a gorilla. I'm sure you'll meet a nice girl once you give up on me."
x.
It took nothing more than temple school to bring them together and soul-searching to pull them apart, but it was courage that bound them once again. And a bit of defiance, as well.
Coins clinked against each other and Otae clapped her hands.
Sometimes, the choices one made mattered less than the reasons behind them. Sometimes, all it took was a debt one couldn't settle and a promise one couldn't keep to open new doors.
I decided to step back and give Shin-chan his chance to grow. I hope you can approve, Father. I know this was the right decision.