Of Memories and Lessons.

Yama sat in the comfort of his home, lounging in a plush chair as he examined the tear in his scarf. It was small, nothing too alarming, easily fixable. Running his hand along the tear, he briefly pondered when it might have formed before rising from his seat. With purpose, he strode to his dresser, pulling open the top drawer and rummaging through its contents until he found what he needed: a pair of metal scissors with blue handles. Alongside the scissors, he retrieved a sewing needle, the glint of its sharp tip reminding him of how he first ventured into clothing alterations.

"Yama, be careful with those. I don’t want you to drop and break them," a woman's voice cautioned, causing Yama to pause in his tracks. In his tiny paws, he held a pair of tall metal scissors. The young rabbit had been attempting to bring them to the woman to aid her in her task, yet they were heavier than anticipated, causing him to shuffle slowly while the cutting instrument wobbled in his grasp. The woman made no attempt to rise from her seated position, remaining in her chair with a blanket across her lap. Instead, she simply bent down and extended her hand toward the floor, signaling that she was waiting for the rabbit to give her the scissors he had been carrying. The rabbit continued his wobble until he reached her hand, gently placing the scissors into her palm before climbing into her hand alongside them.

The woman, quite human-looking save for her redder skin and horns perched on top of her head, raised her hand with the rabbit and scissors in tow, depositing the pair onto her lap. The demoness took the scissors into her hand, using them to cut some thread she had on hand. Now that Yama was in her lap, he could see what she was working on; it looked like the quilt the woman seemed fond of had a tear in it. He didn’t comment on it, keeping silent as he moved to climb onto the arm of the chair instead, allowing her more space to tend to her mending.

“I suppose I should just get rid of this old thing, but every time I think to do so, I’m left making excuses as to why I should keep it,” she explained as Yama watched her hands work carefully with needle and thread. The rabbit’s attention seemed locked onto the task more so than the words she was saying. “Some things just have more sentimental value. To part with this blanket would just make me sad. There’s no real harm in keeping it, right? After all, it’s only my time and effort that goes into taking care of it,” she continued, but gave a small pause to look over at the rabbit nearby. “Oh, you’re not really listening, are you?” she sighed, noting how Yama’s eyes still stayed focused on the needle in her hand. She was almost complete with the repair.

"Would you like to finish it off?" she asked, curving the needle in the rabbit’s direction as if to offer it to him. Yama was hesitant, to say the least. He had never worked with a needle before, and the sharp edges had him a little nervous. But curiosity won in the end. Jumping down from his perch on the arm of the chair, the tiny rabbit moved to grasp the needle in his paws.

“I’ll guide you,” the demoness said, moving the needle as she had done before, this time just a little slower so Yama could understand the motions of the task. It wasn’t long until the tear was mended, the thread tied off, and any loose threads cut with the scissors Yama had provided. Even though the rabbit had barely done any work, he found himself feeling a bit proud of his contribution. There was something about repairing something broken that he seemed to enjoy.

“If you’re interested, I could show you a few more times how to work a needle,” the woman offered with a smile, moving a hand over to pat the rabbit’s head gingerly.

The rest of the memory is fuzzy, Yama just remembers they continued to go on with the demoness with the basics of needlework. It had been an important enough memory that he could still recall it to this day, and even now he continued to mend clothes or alter them to fit whatever request he’d received that day. As he worked on his scarf, his mind wandered back to the woman who had helped raise him.

“I wonder if she still has that old blanket of hers,” Yama mused to himself, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. With a sense of nostalgia, he turned on his heels to head back to the chair he had gotten up from, ready to reminisce on his memories as he continued to mend his scarf.