Ruschka, Flower Flower / No. 16 "Pii Pii → Tsukuyomi"

I took a deep breath and put down my pen.

I gently stood up from my chair, realizing I was cramped, surrounded by objects on all four sides.

I turned on the coffee maker, where brown spots had multiplied due to neglected cleaning,

and turned the doorknob, through which the night was visible, stepping out onto the unnecessarily large balcony, which was definitely not stylish.

(As an aside, I have a desire to turn this into a putting green or to add a small terrace where I can have morning coffee.)

The moment I inhaled the night air deeply,

the coffee maker chirped, signaling it was done. Just as I was about to go back,

a clear, captivating moon quietly floated in the sky.

Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto.

Despite not being extensively mentioned in myths, this deity somehow always fascinates me.

A few years ago, I even researched several shrines where Tsukuyomi is enshrined, such is my unwavering attention.

So naturally,

the moment I saw the moon tonight, something lit up faintly within my chest.

An indescribable sensation, like a shiver, yet also a soft embrace.

— Ah, I must preserve this.

That impulse suddenly came over me.

If I recall, before,

I had gone to see the moon reflected on the surface of the night water and painted its light.

Just looking at it brought comfort,

making me want to believe that “something dwells within it,”

or rather, making me want to continue believing and for it to be a source of solace for my heart—such was the presence of the moon.

This time, I gently brought forth just a fragment of that “mystery unique to the moon”

and made it emerge within Lusica's contours.