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The halls of Eientei were always so full of life, of all kinds. Rabbits abounded and bounded about, patients slunk from room to room on their own whims, and the two immortals of Hourai could be spotted out of the corner of an eye, should one look.
I, however, am not looking. It is not the existences of those who had fled death in their cowardice I cared for, nor the transient transients of humanity who fearfully cast their gazes upon me as I slid through the endless corridors. The rabbits, though, I pay some mind. As one leaps through my hunched-over, currently-incorporeal form, giggling all the while, I simply offer her the kindest smile I can. In response, she skips back up to me. Like most of the rabbits, she is very short, though most were short compared to me. "Are ya lookin' for Mom, Miss Mima?" All of these rabbits share the same mother, so there is no ambiguity in who she means.
I curl my back even more, that I might be somewhat level with the bunny. "I am," I say, locking eyes with her. She stares back without fear.
She nods once, seemingly satisfied. "Coolio boolio. Follow me, and try ta keep up! Nhahahahaha!" She pirouettes on her left foot before pushing off with her right into a leap, clearing several metres of hallway in one bound. I stare after her impassionately as she jumps again the moment she touches the floor, settling into a pattern of long jumps. I can hear her giggling from where I stay. It is only when she rounds the corner, and beholds me in front of her again, that she stumbles to a halt.
She pauses, then shuffles backward and peers behind the corner again, confirming that I am no longer where I was. She looks back at me, then behind the corner once more. She jumps a little as she turns back to me to see my form looming over her, leaning down to lock eyes once again. "I cannot be in two places at once, little rabbit," I say. She blinks once in confusion. I conclude she must be young. The older rabbits here are all familiar with my silly magic tricks. "Now," I continue, "you were leading me?"
She blinks again. "Oh, shit, yeah. Sorry, Miss Mima." Her grin returns as she slips back into her pattern of leaps. "I didn't know anyone but Mom could pull that kind of disappearing act!" she calls back to me. "I wanna learn to do that someday!" When she rounds another corner to see me again, she's no longer surprised.
"It's more an act than you'd think. Try learning magic." It wasn't technically a lie. I, at least, relied on my magical skill to bend space around. My soon-to-be host was a different matter entirely, though I wisely remained silent on that front.
"Mmm, nah!" she replies. "Magic is boring. All that studying leaves no time to play! You wouldn't believe what that does to a rabbit, you know!" Hmmm. The effects of reduced recreation time on a rabbit…
I shake my head to clear out the thought. The rabbits of the Earth and Moon are off-limits to me, I knew. It was strange sentiment, but I was not the sort to so easily go back on my word simply to sate my curiosity.
As another corner is turned, and my location shifts again, I find my guide standing in front of a door. "In here, Miss Mima," she says. She raps loudly on the shoji. "MOOOOOM! THE CREEPY DEAD LADY IS HERE FOR YOUUUU!" she calls over the din. The noise dies down as she stops.
"Let her in," a voice replies. Instead of waiting for my guide to slide open the door, though, I pass through as if there was no door at all, leaving the poor kit alone outside without so much as a farewell. The inside of the room is sparsely decorated, with naught but a bookshelf or two against the side walls, a low table in the center, and some cushions around it. Sitting opposite me is my host, pouring herself a cup of tea. Another cup is opposite her, absent of the steam coming from hers. Cold, huh. Nevertheless, I settle down into the cushion, curling my ectoplasmic tail into a more comfortable position. "Nice to see you, Mima," Tewi says.
I incline my head, letting my jagged mouth settle into a more comfortable grin. "Hardly. If it was so nice to see me, wouldn't you have met me at the entrance? Flagging down a servant to get directions is hardly something a guest should go through, you know." I lift the teacup and eye it with as much disdain as I can muster in Tewi's presence. "And serving her cold tea, too. What a pathetic hostess you are!"
Tewi sips at her own tea in a vain attempt to hide her own smile. "Who said you were a guest, or I your host? Even if I was, maybe I was simply preparing to meet you, and you weren't patient enough." She eyes me amusedly. "As a magician, I trust the cold tea is not a serious complaint."
"As opposed, of course, to my other, entirely serious, complaints."
"Of course."
We hold the air of serious discussion for a few moments more before dissolving into giggles. I sip at my now-pleasantly-hot tea before speaking again. "I've never known someone to set out tea until it was cold unless they were expecting a guest." I move to take another sip, but pause. "Not intentionally, anyway. Plenty of forgetful wizards might do so by accident, I suppose."
"Does the onus, then, not lie upon you, for being so late that your host's tea has become cold?"
I arch an eyebrow. "If you set out a cup of tea, you run that risk. You decided to gamble on my arrival time, and you lost. The price you pay is being a bad host. If you truly wished to practice hospitality, you would have arranged for my arrival at a certain time, or simply waited until I arrived to pour the tea at all." I take another sip of said tea. I had her in a corner, now. She would have to come up with something incredible to match that.
Tewi scoffs, and her crimson eyes glint a little in the light. "Your own behavior is hardly befitting of a guest, too, you know. A guest would allow her guide to open the door, instead of floating through, for one." Tewi's grin matched my own, now; a private, truly youkai-ish expression we only showed one another. "Nor does she confront her host with these sorts of complaints, especially on the same visit they arise. She addresses them later, with much more tact, or mentions them to friends of friends and awaits a gradual change."
"It's hardly the focus of this discussion what my behavior is," I say, narrowing my eyes. "I never claimed to be a good guest."
"Nor I a good host."
"Your defense of yourself not being a bad one is proof enough, in my eyes," I say, taking a satisfied sip of tea. "You wouldn't be defending yourself from my accusations if there was no truth to them."
"I argue that I very much could, and in fact, that the opposite is true," Tewi replies. I notice her tea is empty. "If the accusations were true, it would be dishonest to defend myself, for there would be nothing to dispute but facts. But, as your allegations are untrue, I must rebuke you, else my reputation would be sullied."
Hmmm. That's a fair point. I bow my head. "You are correct. I suppose defending oneself cannot be taken as proof either way. So let me pose a different accusation, this time with more evidence to it." I pour us both another cup of tea, which Tewi accepts silently as I formulate my opening statement. "You are a cruel host."
Tewi's expression is neutral, but I see a spark in her eyes that most would miss. "Continue."
"When I accepted the cold tea from you, you had poured yourself a hot cup moments before. You could have replaced mine, as well."
Tewi took a sip, still neutral. "Waste not, want not."
"Cruel. Pragmatic, and I would act similarly, but cruel."
"I assume there's more to this?"
"Correct." I take a moment to sip at the tea, thinking on how to word what came next. "It is cruel to keep the immortals."
Tewi chuckled. "Does cruelty apply to them at all? They are eternal, you know. Nothing that you or I do here will truly affect them."
"It is precisely that that makes it cruel. You offer them stability they cannot truly appreciate. Beyond that, you surround them with those who live impermanence as a lifestyle, as Tantalus in his pool, below his fruit tree. And you, yourself, have the true perspective of eternity that they lack. The transient should remain transient, Tewi, and yet the immortality of Hourai is a cursed knife you choose to twist."
Tewi is silent, for a moment, and motionless. Then, she downs the rest of her tea in one gulp, slams it down, and throws her head back in a laugh. "Correct, on all counts!" She stands up, and despite her relatively short height, seems to expand through all the space in the room, filling every nook, cranny, and corner. "They are Tantalus, in their pools of death, beneath the tree of transience, and I am Hades, their tormentor. I have no love, nor pity, to offer those who attempt to cast off the shackles of reality, and I pray that you do not either. You know mortality better than any other, and the sin of escaping its hold forever is one that only the cruelest have the stomach to punish. So long as I exist, I will continue to play my role, and spend my eternities torturing theirs."
My jagged mouth twists into a cruel mockery of a smile. "What a terrifying monster. Unimaginably terrifying. But you're right, too, I must admit. They deserve no less than the agony you've brought them. Though, one thing does concern me."
Tewi crosses her arms. "And what might that be, Mima?"
"...Isn't 'House of Eternity' a little on the nose…?"
Tewi turns away and scratches her nose. Quietly, she says, "Would you believe me if I said I didn't come up with that…?"
My head snaps to look at her, my smile replaced with shock. "Tewi?"
"Yeh?"
"You're fucking with me."
Tewi doubles over laughing. After a moment, I do too.