The Girl With Auburn Hair

The garden was still, its tranquility broken only by the faint shimmer of energy at the arrival point. Tagitsa straightened from his crouched position by the koi pond, brushing the earth from his hands. His emerald eyes turned toward the glowing patch of earth, the now-familiar ripple of a soul arriving in Purgatory.

He walked toward the arrival point with calm, measured steps, his expression as unreadable as ever. The cherry blossoms stirred gently in the breeze around him, their petals floating like fragments of a forgotten dream. The energy grew brighter, coalescing into a faint outline of a figure.

As the form solidified, Tagitsa paused, his gaze steady but quietly observant. A young woman appeared, her medium-length auburn hair softly curling at the ends. Her bright amber eyes scanned the garden with a curious, almost amused expression. She was calm—too calm.

She turned her gaze toward Tagitsa and smiled warmly, her voice light and familiar. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

The unexpected familiarity of her words caught Tagitsa off guard. Outwardly, his expression remained impassive, but something flickered deep within him, an echo of recognition he couldn't quite place.

For a moment, he said nothing, his emerald eyes scanning her face as though searching for a clue. She stood there, unfazed by the silence, her posture relaxed as though she belonged there.

Breaking the stillness, Tagitsa inclined his head slightly. His tone was calm and steady, carrying no hint of the disquiet stirring within him. "You've arrived in Purgatory," he said, the words almost mechanical from repetition.

Her smile widened slightly. "Purgatory, huh?" she repeated, looking around with the air of someone taking in a familiar landscape. "Doesn't feel as ominous as I thought it'd be."

Tagitsa remained silent for a beat longer, then made a decision he hadn't before. Perhaps it was the unusual warmth in her demeanor, or the lingering memory of his last interaction with a soul. He folded his hands behind his back and said evenly, "I am Tagitsa Origumaru. I guide souls who arrive here."

Her amber eyes flicked back to his, glinting with amusement. "A guide? So, you're like a tour guide for the afterlife?"

Tagitsa didn't answer the question directly. Instead, he asked, "Do you know why you're here?"

The girl tilted her head, her gaze steady and unnervingly bright. "Hmm," she mused, tapping her chin with one finger. "Not really. But I guess I'll find out, won't I?"

Her nonchalance was unsettling, though Tagitsa didn't show it. Most souls arrived in Purgatory dazed and fearful, desperate for answers. This woman, however, seemed entirely at ease.

"Do you have regrets?" Tagitsa asked, his tone as detached as ever.

She chuckled softly, brushing a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "Doesn't everyone?" she replied. "But regrets… they're funny, aren't they? Sometimes they're small and harmless. Other times…" Her smile faltered for a split second, but it returned just as quickly. "Other times, they're not."

Tagitsa watched her closely, noting the subtle shift in her expression. "Then perhaps it would help if you told me why you're here."

She shook her head lightly, her smile growing playful. "Maybe. But where's the fun in giving away the mystery all at once?"

For the first time in centuries, Tagitsa hesitated. Her familiarity with him—her calm, knowing demeanor—stirred something within him that he couldn't define. Yet, he pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on his role.

"This is a place where you face your regrets," he said evenly. "Until you do, you cannot move forward."

The girl hummed thoughtfully, turning to take in the garden once more. "Well, if this is where I'm supposed to face my regrets," she said lightly, "it's not a bad place to start. Beautiful, even."

Her amber eyes locked onto his again, and her smile softened. "You've kept it just like I remember."

Tagitsa's gaze sharpened, his expression remaining unreadable, though her words struck a chord. "What do you mean by that?" he asked quietly, his voice carrying a rare note of tension.

She turned away, her fingers brushing the petals of a nearby flower. "You'll figure it out," she said cryptically.

The garden felt quieter than usual, though the rustling of cherry blossoms and the gentle ripple of the koi pond remained constant. Tagitsa stood with his usual stillness, observing the girl as she wandered a few steps away, her gaze moving over the garden with curious ease.

"So," she began, her voice light and conversational, "this is Purgatory." She spun slightly, letting her arms fall open as if taking it all in. "I have to say, it's not as bad as people make it out to be. No fire, no brimstone. Just… flowers and fish."

Tagitsa's gaze didn't waver. "Purgatory is not a place of punishment," he explained calmly. "It is a place to reconcile regrets."

Her amber eyes flicked to his, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "So, you're like the regret therapist?" she teased, tilting her head. "Do you give people checklists to work through their issues?"

Her casual tone was unsettling, but Tagitsa remained composed. "I guide those who arrive here," he said evenly. "What they choose to do is their own decision."

The girl hummed thoughtfully, wandering closer to the koi pond. Her fingertips grazed the leaves of a nearby shrub, her movements fluid and relaxed. "And how long have you been the guide here?" she asked, her voice as light as the petals drifting in the breeze.

Tagitsa hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding. "I've been here a long time."

"Not much of an answer," she said, her smile playful as she turned to face him. "Doesn't it ever get boring, doing the same thing every day?"

He regarded her silently for a moment, the faintest flicker of something unfamiliar stirring within him. "My purpose is to help others pass on," he said, his tone steady but carrying a slight edge of detachment.

"And what happens to you?" she asked suddenly, her amber eyes narrowing slightly, her voice quieter. "Do you ever pass on?"

Her words struck a chord, though Tagitsa's expression didn't betray the faint unease they caused. "That is not my concern," he said simply.

She studied him, her gaze sharp yet kind, as though she were trying to piece together a puzzle. "You're a tough one to crack," she said with a soft laugh. "Do you ever get tired of being so serious all the time?"

Her question hung in the air, lighthearted yet pointed. Tagitsa didn't respond immediately, his emerald eyes fixed on her as though searching for her motive. "Seriousness is necessary for my role," he said finally, his voice calm but slightly more measured than before.

She stepped closer, her smile unwavering. "Maybe. But you could try smiling once in a while. It wouldn't kill you."

Tagitsa blinked, the suggestion so out of place that it caught him off guard. He remained silent, his mind momentarily blank as he processed her words. Her familiarity, her warmth—they were at odds with everything he knew about Purgatory and the souls who arrived here.

The girl tilted her head, her expression softening. "You don't remember me, do you?" she asked, her tone almost wistful.

Tagitsa's gaze sharpened, though his expression remained composed. "Why would I?" he replied. "I've met many souls here."

She laughed lightly, the sound both melodic and unsettling in its ease. "Maybe you're right," she said, turning her attention back to the koi pond. "But still… there's something about this place. It feels familiar."

Her words stirred something deep within him, though he pushed the thought aside. "What do you regret?" he asked, redirecting the conversation.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, her smile tinged with mischief. "Why don't you figure that out?" she said, her tone teasing. "You're the expert, after all."

For the first time in centuries, Tagitsa felt a faint flicker of frustration. Her warmth, her calmness—it was unlike anything he had encountered before. He didn't understand her, and that lack of understanding unsettled him.

"You cannot pass on until you confront your regrets," he said evenly. "That is the purpose of this place."

The girl turned fully to face him, her amber eyes meeting his with unwavering confidence. "And what about you, Tagitsa?" she asked softly. "What regrets are you confronting?"

The question cut through the stillness, its weight pressing against the calm veneer he had maintained for so long. He didn't respond, his emerald eyes narrowing slightly as her words lingered in the air.

Her smile softened, and she stepped back, giving him space. "It's okay," she said quietly. "You don't have to answer. Not yet."

As she turned to walk further into the garden, Tagitsa remained rooted in place, his mind turning over her words. The cherry blossoms swirled gently around him, their soft descent mirroring the growing tension within.

The soft rustle of cherry blossoms filled the garden as Tagitsa walked beside her, their steps slow and measured. The usual serenity of Purgatory felt different now, a faint tension threading through the air. It wasn't the unease of past souls or the sorrow of regret—it was something far more personal, something he couldn't quite grasp.

She moved ahead of him, her fingers brushing against the petals of a flowering bush. Her auburn hair caught the gentle light, the soft curls framing her face as she paused to admire the vibrant blossoms. She didn't speak for a moment, her amber eyes focused on the delicate petals.

Tagitsa's gaze lingered on her, his usual detachment beginning to crack under the weight of her presence. There was something about her—something familiar yet unreachable. A faint flicker of emotion stirred within him, like the faint glow of an ember buried under centuries of ash. He didn't understand it, and that lack of understanding unsettled him.

"Why did you create this garden?" The girl asked suddenly, breaking the silence. She turned to him, her expression curious but calm.

Tagitsa's voice was steady as he replied, "It's what I've always done. The garden has been here since the beginning."

She smiled faintly, stepping closer to the koi pond. She crouched by the edge, her fingers skimming just above the surface of the water. "It's beautiful," she said softly. "But… it feels lonely."

Tagitsa didn't respond immediately. Instead, he observed her quietly, his emerald eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to decipher her words. Most souls didn't notice the loneliness of Purgatory—not in the way she did. Her calmness, her insight, her familiarity—they were unlike anything he had encountered before.

"Do you find it lonely?" he asked, his tone even but laced with genuine curiosity.

She glanced back at him, her amber eyes meeting his with a faint glimmer of amusement. "Sometimes," she admitted. "But other times… it feels like home."

Tagitsa's steps faltered, the word home striking a chord deep within him. A flicker of something—an image, a memory—flashed through his mind. It was fleeting, too quick to grasp, but it left an impression nonetheless.

He stopped walking, his gaze sharpening as he studied her. "Why are you here?" he asked, his voice quieter but more deliberate.

The girl's posture straightened, turning to face him fully. Her smile didn't waver, but there was a softness in her expression now, a hint of something deeper. "I told you," she said lightly. "I'll figure it out."

"You seem to know more than you're letting on," Tagitsa pressed, his tone still calm but carrying an edge of suspicion. "What do you remember?"

She tilted her head, her gaze steady and unflinching. "Enough to know that this garden is important," she said, her voice soft. She gestured to the flowers, the koi pond, and the cherry trees around them. "You've kept it just like I remember."

The words hit him like a distant echo, their meaning slipping just out of reach. Tagitsa's emerald eyes narrowed as he processed her statement. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, his tone measured but with a faint edge of tension.

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she stepped closer, her amber eyes searching his face. For a moment, the playful warmth in her gaze shifted into something deeper, something heavier. "You'll figure it out," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her cryptic response only deepened the tension within him. Tagitsa's mind churned, fragments of thoughts and feelings he couldn't fully understand pressing against the edges of his consciousness.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice low and steady, carrying an unspoken demand for truth.

The girl's smile returned, faint but knowing. She didn't reply. Instead, she turned and walked further into the garden, her auburn hair catching the light as she moved.

Tagitsa remained where he stood, his gaze following her retreating figure. The cherry blossoms swirled gently around him, their quiet descent mirroring the storm of unanswered questions building within him.

And for the first time in centuries, the silence of Purgatory felt heavy.