Fates Supports/Hinoka Mitama(PC)

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C Support

Hinoka: Mitama! Hey, MITAMA!

(Hinoka leaves)

Mitama: ...

(Mitama leaves)

Hinoka: Dammit, I know you're in there! You have to get up. NOW!

(Hinoka leaves)

Mitama: Shoo now, Mother-fly / Leave Mitama to her sleep / Do not buzz so loud.

(Mitama leaves)

Hinoka: OK, that's it. I'm coming in!

Mitama: Please, honored Mother / My bed is warm; you are cold / Do not part us so. Besides, I am too tired to attend. I would just fall asleep at the table.

Hinoka: You're only tired because you were up all night reading those books again. Sometimes I'm of half a mind to just burn the whole lot of them! Gods above, I'm almost impressed with your devotion to the stuff, though. Where did you get it, anyway?

Mitama: The answer is clear / A gift from Father did it / A brush and paper. I remember it like it was yesterday...

Hinoka: No, that can't be it. You can do tons of things with a brush. You could have tried writing stories, or drawing, or keeping a journal, you know? But you chose poetry. Why is that?

Mitama: I must ponder this / Other paths I left untrod / Where did I begin?

Hinoka: Must have been something when you were younger, I'd wager.

Mitama: Oh, Mother! I just had a wonderful idea. Perhaps we should now / Try to solve this together / Mother and daughter.

Hinoka: Sure, that sounds fun— ...Oh, you sneaky little onion rot. No. We're going to the meeting. Now!

Mitama: My ruse discovered / I have no choice but to go / It was worth a shot.

B Support

Hinoka: Uh, Mitama...what are you up to?

Mitama: Sly old Memory / She leaves only threads behind / For us to follow.

Hinoka: Uhhh. Right.

Mitama: I mean that to reclaim the past, we begin by seizing upon a single, vivid memory— a clue—which then reveals to us other memories. And we follow this thread of memories until the object of our search is found. This being the case, I am searching for my very first poem. It is here somewhere.

Hinoka: OK...and what are you looking to find at the end of this particular thread?

Mitama: Before there was verse / Mitama existed not / Wherefore Mitama? I wish to understand who I am. I was not myself until I learned poetry. If I find my earliest self, I find my current self. In the beginning, the end. Therefore, the search.

Hinoka: Oh, I see. You think your first poem will give you a clue as to why you began writing them.

Mitama: Yes. How long 'til it's found? / In a blizzard of poems / A single snowflake. It has been many days. But I am determined.

Hinoka: Well. Is there anything I can do to help?

Mitama: Well, perhaps if you— Ah! Wait! I may have found it / The Alpha of Mitama / Omega, my search.

Hinoka: Ooh. Can I hear it?

Mitama: Mother does not come / I count the days passing by / Days without number.

Hinoka: That's... Is that really your first poem?

Mitama: Yes. I remember now. You'd become very busy, and my caretakers told me you couldn't come to visit. I began writing poems to comfort myself while you were gone. Left waiting for you / My world turned inward to verse / Structure to sorrow.

Hinoka: I am so very sorry, Mitama. Can you ever forgive me?

Mitama: Don't apologize / You had a duty, a cause / The world needed you. I am sorry. I didn't want to upset you. And I want you to know I understand. You fought to protect me. I know that now.

Hinoka: Maybe. But maybe I could have done better. I don't know. Anyways, we still haven't figured out why you turned to poetry in particular. How about we write your caretakers? They've got to know something about it.

Mitama: More clues to my past / Hidden in old memories / The search continues. You are right. I will draft a letter immediately.

Hinoka: Er. Maybe I should write it. I think they'll appreciate fewer poetic tangents...

A Support

Hinoka: What? This can't be right!

Mitama: Mother? Is that the letter from my caretakers? Please, let me see it. / Perhaps the source is revealed. / The search now bears fruit.

Hinoka: A-ah...I'm not sure how to say this.

Mitama: What is it?

Hinoka: It says here that I'm the one who got you started on poetry.

Mitama: I don't understand / You have no great love for it / What else do they say?

Hinoka: I don't understand either. Give me a moment... Hm.

Mitama: Yes?

Hinoka: Your caretakers say that I used to teach you the lyrics of the lullabies I sang you. You had trouble singing, so I taught you by reciting them. Eventually, you forgot they were songs, but you never forgot the lyrics themselves. And when you wanted to find more things like them, you naturally asked for poetry. Luckily, they had many books of traditional verses—tanka and haiku especially. Dozens, from the sound of it. And after that...well, the rest is history.

Mitama: Mystery dispelled / I know now the catalyst / My life's prime mover. But to think that so much of my life has hinged on a simple misunderstanding... For good or for ill? / Stand I in praise of folly? / And love blind fortune? Is luck Fate's only precept? / Why worry? One has poems. But this means—

Hinoka: Yep. Looks like we've both got ME to blame for this little obsession.

Mitama: Heehee. So it wouldn't be right for you to make me stop, now would it? Yourself the wellspring. / Can the source of the river / Choose to flow uphill?

Hinoka: Heh. Fine. I know when I'm beaten. But don't let it disrupt your duties, all right?

Mitama: Poetry and song / Daughter and mother allied / Invincible bond!

Hinoka: You know, I think I actually like that one. Thank you, Mitama.