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Autumn hangs over the city of Gensokyo like gray purgatory. The colorless leaves shrivel on their branches until they pluck themselves off, tumbling through stagnant air into the city streets. Raking them is pointless, since they’re quickly stomped into bits of nothing by unconcerned passersby. The sun refuses to push through the thick overcast that’s lingered over the entire month of October. Yet winter still sleeps. What’s left is a bland, dry chill that I always feel but never quite seeps into my bones. As a miserable guy in the middle of my thirties who spends most days outside on my feet, I deeply prefer the mild, dreary weather to the heat or snow we could be getting instead. But as a human who can just barely remember the red, orange, and yellow vistas the trees of Gensokyo provided when I was a young boy, my heart weeps for the fading autumn season. And ironically enough, the name of the woman I’m meeting today is Minoriko Aki.
My phone buzzes at my side. I already know who it is, so I take many extra seconds to pull it out of my coat, flip it open, and put it to my ear. “Yes?”
“She still hasn’t shown up yet?” the tiny speaker blares into my ear. It’s the shrill, frantic voice of my benefactor that I’ve become very familiar with—but never particularly charmed by—over the past decade.
“I think you would know better than anyone, Hatate,” I quip back. “Aren’t you watching the cameras?”
My employer, landlord, and overall dictator of my current living situation, Hatate Himekaidou, mutters a smorgasbord of curses that drift in and out of the required volume to be picked up on the receiver. I stretch and then return to leaning back against the side of my apartment building, waiting for my new client. It’s an awkward, lonely spot between the big city and the edge of the Great Youkai Forest. Despite the city’s outward development, humans still want to stay as far away from the forest as possible, and most youkai can’t afford to own property. So, the two-story, six-room apartment building—along with the adjacent warehouse—became a great deal for Hatate. After we met, she moved me right into the empty room at the end of the ground floor, furthest from the stairs. It would be a nice, quiet place to live, if it weren’t for the frequent explosions, multifaceted invasions of my personal space and privacy, and flaky utilities. Hatate doesn’t charge me rent as long as I do my job, but really, she should be paying me to put up with all of it.
Hatate is still grumbling. “I told her exactly how to get here. Fucking hicks. Always on their own time. Would’ve sent her a GPS, but she wouldn’t even know how to use the damn thing.”
Our new and only client today, Miss Minoriko Aki, is a farmer with a missing sister. I have more than enough experience with cases like these. The bigger the city gets, the more people end up lost. Some of them are never found. Then there’s the ones who are better off not being found. It’s not my favorite type of work, but I don’t get a choice in the matter. “If you’re feeling impatient, you can always wait outside with me,” I offer mockingly. “It’s a beautiful day. You won’t even have to worry about the sun violating your pasty skin.”
She heaves a crunchy sigh directly into my eardrum. “And I’d have such charming company, too. No thanks. I’ll stay right here and watch.”
“Right here” is about fifty feet away, in the unit next to mine: Hatate’s nest of squalor and intrusive surveillance. Last I saw, she had twelve cameras that each fed into their own monitor inside her room. That number has probably doubled by now. I spot the glint of one of the newer cameras tucked under the nearby stairs, and give it a friendly wave.
Hatate makes an unattractive snort that, unfortunately, is loud enough to come through the phone. “Pfft, yeah, hi. Jackass.”
BOOOOM!
The thunderous noise pours out of the nearby warehouse, rocking the apartment building and scattering the various birds and rodents that poke around for scraps. The first time this happened, I thought the world was finally ending and spent five minutes cowering in the closet, making what little peace I could with my twisted life. Nowadays, I barely flinch. “That’s the second one today already. She’s up to something again, isn’t she?”
“Mmm, of course she is,” Hatate answers like she’s holding all the cards, but in reality, she’s playing Old Maid. “I’m sure you’ll find out what soon enough.”
Now I’m the one sighing. Hatate is right about that much, at least. Inevitably, I’ll get that neat, precise text message, written the same way every time: Hello! Could you please come to the workshop at your earliest convenience to finish testing my latest gadget? -Q. Usually, it’s a not-too-unwelcome distraction. But then there’s those times where they have to peel me off a wall and toss me in Eientei for a few days to recover. Oh well, at least I still get paid—in both money and the attention of those lovely rabbit nurses with their miracle drugs.
A little golden-headed something catches my eye, disappearing around the corner behind the building before I can get a chance to focus on it. If it is our new client, then she certainly isn’t one to make herself known. Strange behavior, but it’s nothing compared to what I live with everyday. I wait a few moments, then move to investigate.
Hatate scrambles at her keyboard. “Wha-what’s wrong? See something?”
Before rounding the corner, I stop and wait. No movement, or any sounds at all, besides the stray chirps of some brave or foolish critters that have already returned after being scared off by the explosion. After counting to five in my head, I hold a breath, whip my body out from behind the corner, and see only the small, blue dumpster that’s kept meticulously tidy by our devoted groundskeeper. There’s no walls or fence on this side of the building, so anything could walk right up from the city or the forest if it wanted to. But Hatate should have seen it.
“I thought there was something behind the building, but I don’t see anything,” I report, peeking in the dumpster just in case. All that’s inside is last week’s garbage. “Is Miss Aki a very shy person, by any chance?”
“Uh, no,” Hatate responds quickly. “She’s docile, maybe, but not to that extent.” There’s a few more taps on her keyboard, and then some clicks. “Nope, I rewound the footage and there’s nothing. You’re seeing things. Even a ghost would show up on these cameras. Sure your age isn’t starting to catch up to you?”
“I don’t wanna hear anything about my age from a youkai,” I snap back, before turning my attention to the thicket behind the apartments. “Something was here, I’m sure. Guess it hopped back into the forest.”
“Whatever you say, old man,” Hatate replies with that air of undeserved smugness that’s oh-so-typical of her. “Maybe I should get you a partner. Someone fresh and cute. Like how when a dog gets older, you get a puppy to soften the inevitable loss.”
None the happier from doing my due diligence, I make my way back to the front. “Oh, so you’re saying you’ll be sad when I’m gone? Thanks, Dear Leader. I love you too, and ‘til death do us part.”
A torrent of coughing from her end makes me put some distance between the speaker and my ear. “Don’t fucking joke around like that while I’m drinking soda!” she sputters out eventually. “Gross!”
She deserves it. “You may have every angle of me, but I can’t see what you’re doing, nor do I care. Signing off.”
Hatate’s voice is cut off by closing my black flip-phone with a satisfying clap. I don’t know if a kappa designed it that way, or it was just something else they copied from Outside, but it’s a genius idea for people like me who are in annoying conversations more often than not.
Then it’s back to waiting. My watch tells me it’s nearly one-thirty, which makes it nearly half an hour after our scheduled time. The minute hand shifts directly over the six, and I decide that if she isn’t here in five more minutes, I’ll go back into my apartment and pour myself a drink. Four minutes and forty-nine seconds later, I hear footsteps. Go figure.
A woman in a red apron and yellow blouse pauses on the lonely road, and her red eyes lock onto me like I’m the building’s guard dog. But my eyes can’t help but be drawn to the top of her head, where she’s attached a small bundle of grapes to the brim of her red hat. Now that’s a fashion statement. When she musters the bravery to step onto the property, I also notice that her feet are bare and white. My intuition screams that she’s a youkai, but that’s no reason to judge her early or harshly. There are plenty of humans in Gensokyo who are worse than a bundle of grapes and bare feet, after all.
“Minoriko Aki?” I call out as she approaches.
She stops about ten paces away. Her hair is blonde like whatever creature I spotted poking around behind the apartment building, but redder and shorter. It definitely wasn’t her. “Um, howdy! Are ya the, uh, PI person that works for Miss Himekaidou?”
It’s a mild case, but there’s no hiding that rural twang. I make a short bow. “That I am. You can just call me PI. Nice to meet you, Miss Aki.”
She returns it in kind. “Sorry I’m late. With my sister missin’, I’m really behind on work at the farm. Then I had trouble figurin’ out the directions. I don’t visit the city much, ya see.”
That doesn’t make it any less annoying for me, but I suck it up with what passes for a business smile around these parts. “Well, that’s a problem I hope I can solve for you.”
This is the part where I’d love to ask her to step into my office, but I don’t have one. Hatate refuses to believe that I need a space of my own to meet with clients, insisting that I use my apartment instead. It’s far from ideal, but no amount of complaining has made her even consider reevaluating that stance. So I have to ask Minoriko Aki to step into my apartment through a bluish-gray door with the number 103 engraved on the plate hanging next to it. My theory is that it’s easier for Hatate to snoop if I meet with clients here. I’m sure there’s still a camera or a bug somewhere that I haven’t found yet.
The entrance hall is just that: a thin corridor where I can slip my worn-out, black loafers off before walking into the living room. Of course, Minoriko Aki would never need to worry about taking her shoes off indoors in the first place. As I turn back and watch her make the step up from the entrance to the hallway, I notice that her feet, while white and delicate-looking from the top, have thick, hardened soles underneath that make it clear her lack of footwear is a lifestyle choice—not a one-off fancy. The tengu are an organization of rigid bean-counters, but I’m certain they pay their farmers enough to own a functional pair of shoes.
My makeshift office consists of only a few pieces of necessary furniture, because not much else will fit. The highlight is the black, L-shaped couch that separates into two halves. When I know I have a client, I’ll break it apart and face the two sofas at each other, keeping the wooden coffee table between them. Against the wall and currently behind one of the sofas is a hand-me-down television set I rescued from Hatate, who was about to trash it over some minor defect. Q eventually fixed it up for me, and now it works as good as new. Other than that, I don’t keep any pretty wall scrolls, paintings, or plants hanging around. There just isn’t that much room.
I gesture to the nearest couch. “Please have a seat, Miss Aki. Would you like something to drink?”
She looks uncomfortable but not intolerably so, as if she’s figuring out what exactly to make out of someone who converted their living room into a pitiful excuse for a detective’s office. This is the point where many of my clients have wondered to themselves, Is he for real? Should I be here? And yet, nobody has walked out after making it this far. If they’re meeting with me, then I can’t imagine they have many other options. “Just some tea’d be fine,” she answers.
Damn, I was hoping she’d want some liquor. I’m not a fan of tea, but I do keep some around for such an occasion. Stuffed into the corner opposite the television and my bedroom door is a kitchen perfect for a single man: a fridge and one burner across from a small sink, a couple of cabinets, and some meager counterspace. I pluck some Kappa-brand instant green tea powder from a box and set myself to preparing it, starting a pot of water on the burner.
“Miss Aki,” I begin after sitting across from her on the other half of the couch. “I know very little of the situation thus far. Please tell me the full extent of the circumstances behind your sister’s disappearance. Any detail could help, no matter how minor it seems at first.”
“The full extent?” she repeats, as if that’s something she needs to process. “Well, my sister Shizuha and I work some fields outside the city, and—”
“For the tengu?” I cut in. All the fields that I know of outside the city are part of commercial farms that are owned by the tengu and worked by the cheapest labor they can find. The kappa, who work under the umbrella of the tengu, also use some of the fields for experimentation. That part isn’t so widely known.
Minoriko Aki stops, blinks, and makes that kind of wishy-washy thinking expression that foretells a more complicated answer than I’d like to hear. “I still own the farm. The tengu kept buggin’ me to give it to ‘em, but they try a lot of fancy chemicals on those other farms to grow the food faster and keep the bugs away. I didn’t want that. Eventually they agreed to let me keep the farm as long as I only sell the crops to them, and then they market it all as being ‘organic’. I don’t really get what that means, but so far it’s been a decent arrangement.”
Come to think of it, I have seen organic food more and more often in the stores, even at the little Kappa Mart down the road. It’s always horrifically overpriced, so I’ve never bought any. Whatever arrangement Minoriko Aki has with the tengu is probably less decent than she thinks, but I’ll stay quiet on that unless it becomes relevant. “I see. Sorry, please go on.”
“Right. So, um, Shizuha and I have been workin’ on the farm. These past few years, we’ve been havin’ lots of pest troubles. Shizuha found out a certain youkai’s been behind everything and wanted to, um, take care of it. I told her to just let the tengu handle it—like we agreed—but she wouldn’t listen.” Her expression sours as passion creeps into her tone. “She’s always been impulsive like that. And she never liked workin’ with the tengu in the first place. I don’t either, but I know it’s better than goin’ up against them!”
Admittedly, it’s hard to keep my eyes off the grapes bouncing seductively on her head whenever she speaks with that kind of energy. Perhaps it’s simply in the nature of a man to be drawn to such a thing. But I more-or-less heard it all. “So then your sister goes missing. And what did the tengu have to say about all this?”
“They told me they were lookin’ for Shizuha and that youkai, but that was almost a week ago. All they said was to keep doin’ what I was doin’ while I wait. But I can’t do it without her!”
Not only are the tengu a rigid organization, but they’re also a slow bureaucracy. The white wolves do patrol often, but they have their own vested interests. Minoriko Aki’s farm is likely not one of them, or very far down on the list. “So she hasn’t had any contact with anyone else you know? Friends? Family? Anybody she would stay with?”
Her eyes waver away from mine. “We don’t really—umm, I mean, the two of us, we’re all we got.”
Now that’s interesting: two young woman farming outside the city all by themselves, with no support and no connections besides the tengu. And somehow, us. “You reached out to Hatate, but you don’t seem like the kind of person who would be a regular of her little blog. How exactly did you decide to hire us, Miss Aki?”
“Hina Kagiyama recommended ya. We used to talk now and then, and I was desperate, so when I saw her walkin’ around yesterday I stopped her and explained everything. Then she must’a let Miss Himekaidou know, because all of a sudden she was all over it, told me I could hire y’all and you’d take care of it.” Recounting everything must make the weight on her shoulders feel fresh, because she’s starting to deflate. “So here I am.”
Makes sense to me. Miss Hina Kagiyama, our groundskeeper, lives in the apartment right above mine. If there’s no work to be done around the building, she’ll just pick a random direction and walk. It’s not the first time Miss Kagiyama has stumbled upon someone in need and referred them to us, and I highly doubt it will be the last.
This short gap in the conversation allows me to hear wet rumbling coming from the kitchen. The water must be close enough to a boil by now, so I get up and shut the burner off. I carefully pour the hot water directly from the saucepan into two plain, white cups. Some of it splashes out onto the countertop, but I don’t care enough to wipe it up right now. The two cups each get one packet of instant tea, and then I stir the green dust in until it looks smooth enough—paying more attention to Minoriko Aki’s cup than my own.
I return to the table and set both cups down before retaking my seat. “It’s not much, but it’s a little something for coming out all this way.”
She doesn’t look too certain about it but nonetheless flashes me a pleasant smile. “Thank you.”
While the cups steam and cool, I continue our conversation. “Would you happen to know the name of the youkai who was bothering your fields? Did your sister mention anything about it?”
She thinks but doesn’t spend too much time on it. “No, just that it was a little thing. That’s what ticked Shizuha off so much. Thought she could handle it on her own.”
Unfortunately, it seems like this Minoriko Aki’s sister bit off more than she could chew. Maybe that little thing managed to get the jump on her, maybe it’s working for something higher up on the food chain, or maybe it wasn’t so little after all. If either of those are the case, then this probably won’t have a happy ending.
Maybe she can sense what I’m thinking, or she has something similar in mind, because suddenly the waterworks start. “I-It doesn’t sound good, does it?” she says with a quiver in her throat and wetness pooling under her eyes. “If I lose her, I’ll be all alone. I ain’t gonna be able keep up with the fields anymore. It’ll all be over.”
Tissues, tissues. Normally I keep some on-hand, but I might be out. Minoriko Aki will have to wipe her tears with a paper towel that I quickly yank off the counter. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem too picky about it.
I do my best to reassure Minoriko Aki while she dabs her red eyes with the Kappa-brand Disposa-Soaker™ paper towel. “When it comes to youkai, there are no constants. It’s also possible that your sister is still tracking it down and too stubborn to return home right now. Is that a possibility?”
She blinks some tears out of her eyes, then nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like her. You’re right.”
I don’t like giving people hope. Too many times, it’s misplaced. But my job is a lot harder if the client gives up. Forcing optimism in this kind of situation feels slimy, and I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that. So, I just have to move on. “You mentioned your sister ‘taking care of’ the youkai. Not many people would take it upon themselves to do that. Do you and your sister have experience repelling or exterminating youkai?”
“We’ve had youkai try to bother the farm before, and we can usually handle it ourselves, but the tengu also started helping us. Once word got around that they were protectin’ us, things let up for a while.”
That doesn’t quite add up. “Except for this case?”
She lowers her eyes and nods. “Right. The tengu seem awfully preoccupied by somethin’, recently. Last time they were this quiet was when that vampire mansion popped up a few years ago by Misty Lake.”
I remember that. Hatate was chomping at the bit for me to infiltrate that mansion, but it was just too dangerous. Tengu were constantly patrolling the lake, and we had no idea what was waiting for us inside at the time. Given that it turned out to be vampires, I’m glad that I stood by my decision not to go. Hatate nagged me mercilessly about it, up until one of the mansion’s residents coincidentally decided to join our online chatroom. Thankfully, that was enough to satiate her. I think she typed up an article about it all, but I never bothered to read it and doubt anyone else did either.
Anyways, if the tengu are preoccupied, that doesn’t bode well. “I see. Well then, Miss Aki, is there anything else you would like to tell me about your sister that might help locate her? Likes? Dislikes?”
While I talk she tries the tea, taking a hearty sip from the rim and coming out of it with a face like she swallowed a bee. But she gets it down and then coughs once. “Excuse me. It’s just that it’s awful strong, and sweet besides.”
I take a swig of mine, and she’s right. Maybe I’m not supposed to use a whole packet in one little cup. Like I said: I don’t drink the stuff. “Sorry about that. I’ll keep it in mind for next time. What about your sister?”
“Oh, right. Well, she enjoys painting sometimes and don’t like bein’ in the city much. Ain’t a people person, either.”
I can relate. “How about where she spends her free time?”
Minoriko Aki rattles it around in her mind but doesn’t come up with much. “The farm and the woods around it, I reckon. Besides that, I dunno.”
I can’t help but cock an eyebrow at her. “Any habits? Gambling? Drinking? Smoking? Belly dancing? Any kind of pleasure at all, besides painting and maybe watching it dry?”
A glare forms in her narrowing eyes. She’s caught on to what I’m putting out there but isn’t sure what to make of it. “What are ya gettin’ at?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Aki, but I find it hard to believe that a young woman spends all her time with her little sister on a farm, has no other friends or family to speak of, and fills all her free time by painting ‘sometimes.’ Not even Hatate lives that stale of a life.”
She starts fidgeting in her seat like it’s uncomfortable. It may not be the lushest cushion in Gensokyo, but it’s a decent cushion that I even fall asleep on watching television if I’m not careful. So I’ll bet that I’m touching on something she doesn’t like. “We don’t spend all of our time together, Mister PI,” she replies sharply. “Maybe there’s somewhere she steals off to when she’s dog-tired or we get to fightin’, but I dunno where that’d be. We’re simple folk, and we got work to do.”
Minoriko Aki isn’t telling me something, and it’s probably what ties all this together. But if she’s decided it’s not something I need to know, then I’ll have to do without—for now. Being pushy will only alienate her, and this introductory period is the most sensitive time for my relationship with the client. If whatever she’s hiding is important, it’ll come out on its own as the case develops. That’s how these things usually work and I’m plenty used to it by now. I reach for the notepad and pen on the table. “Not much to go on, but I’ve had worse starts. Do you have a phone? Does your sister?”
“We got one phone for the two of us. Tengu made us get it. Was a big hassle back then, but I can work it alright now. Miss Himekaidou knows the number. Problem is, I end up leavin’ it at home more often than not, or I’m elbow-deep in somethin’ on the farm.” She pauses, then lets out a dry chuckle. “If Shizuha got one too, maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess. I told her it’d be nice, but she said she didn’t need any more tengu nonsense.”
I jot down my cell phone number on the top sheet, rip it off, and hand it to her. “And now you know mine. I always have it on me, so if you think of anything else or something comes up, don’t hesitate to call me. Any time.”
She accepts it and keeps it in her hand. “Alright, I’ll do that.”
After that, I stand and move past the table—and two barely-touched cups of tea—to the door. As I lead Minoriko Aki back outside into the cool air, her steps are heavy and her gaze somewhere far away. Maybe she’s already back on her farm in her mind, working the fields alone, doing housework alone, and fearing for the future alone. “I know we don’t give the best first impressions here, Miss Aki,” I tell her straight, “and I’d be just as worried as you are if I were in your situation. But if there’s one thing I take seriously, it’s my job. If your sister is still in Gensokyo, I’ll find her. And if a youkai or anything else gets in the way, I have my own tried-and-true methods of ‘taking care of it’, as you say. Just focus on your crops and leave the searching and worrying to me. I’ll be in touch.”
She gives me a not-quite-full smile and nods. “Thank you, um, PI. That does make me feel a bit better.”
I was hoping she might feel more than a “bit” better, but I’ll take what I can get. Minoriko Aki walks back to the road and begins the trek back to her farm. A vine from the grapes in her hat can be seen from behind, swaying back and forth as she walks, like it’s waving me goodbye. She certainly has her own gait, constantly favoring her left side. It’s then that I notice, after a double-take, that she seems to have two left feet—literally. That would certainly explain it. Maybe she doesn’t like shoes because she has to buy two pairs.
After seeing her off for longer than I should have, I pull out my phone, tap over to the recent contacts, and dial up my shut-in boss who is probably ten feet away from me, with her one of knife-ears pressed up against her wall.
Half a ring is all it takes, and she starts immediately when the line connects. “Well? What do you think?”
“I thought Q said the sewage runoff into the river from the city wasn’t that bad? The poor gal has two left feet. There’s your big story.”
“Aha, I knew you would notice that, pervert. We need to add ‘feet’ to our community-moderated list of your fetishes. But don’t worry, pollution has nothing to do with that.”
Just because Minoriko Aki’s feet in particular are fascinating doesn’t mean I have a damn foot fetish. But I’ve been around Hatate long enough to know that arguing back just makes things worse. The fact that there's a community list of my fetishes is proof of that much. So I’ll tune it out and move right along. “Whatever you say. That she can walk that well at all is insane. Does her sister have two right feet?”
“Does her sister have—no, you dumbass! Well, actually, I can’t remember. Maybe she does. Sure, why not? Now give me a real answer.”
“I can only tell you what I know, which isn’t much. But what I will say is that if her sister went after a youkai and now hasn’t been seen for a week, it’s hard not to assume the worst.”
Hatate shows about as much empathy as she can, with a dry “Mmm.”
“But,” I continue, “I think the family dynamics are more complicated than Minoriko Aki would like to admit. Shizuha Aki might have just run off, which is more work for us but a significantly better outcome for all. I’ll ask Miss Kagiyama when the next spirited away party is. Someone there might recognize her. She could even still be trying to get help with her youkai problem, who knows.”
A “spirited away party” is a bunch of youkai that decide to get together somewhere in the middle of the forest to drink and be merry. The word spreads quickly throughout the city, drawing in curious humans who are willing to risk being abducted into the night and never seen again. The tengu constantly warn humans against participating, but the clueless, the rebellious, and the perverse will still venture out to witness the youkai of Gensokyo in their most natural element. Sometimes there’s even performers.
“So business as usual, then?” she concludes. “I’ll whip up a photo of her for you to show around.”
Hatate has the ability to create photos with her mind, which is apparently unique among the tengu. I’m still not convinced she isn’t just really, really good with image editing software, but the results are undeniably helpful for a broad investigation like this—even if she does get some eye colors or clothing details wrong. I still love to give her a hard time for it, though. “You don’t even remember if she had two right feet or not. How can I trust your thoughtography this time?”
“Because you won’t be going around showing people pictures of her feet, idiot,” she scoffs. “I remember her face well enough. Those two are practically identical, anyways.”
I wonder how Miss Shizuha Aki would feel hearing that.
###
Don’t know where I am. All I know is that someone vomited on this innocent cedar tree, and I have a hunch it was me. A slim patch of moonlight illuminates the bubbles of foam popping on rotting leaves, bringing to mind the many other times I’ve found myself in this situation. At least I won’t have to clean this up.
A lady’s white hand rests itself on my shoulder, imparting warmth through the drunken haze and chilly darkness. “Are you feeling better, PI?”
It’s none other than our groundskeeper, Miss Kagiyama. I turn and see that she’s kneeling right beside me, wearing her usual frilly, red dress and high boots. Her skin is pure white and shines even more in the pale light, which also brings out more of the blue in her bluish-green hair. She’s watching me with concerned, deep eyes that would look so warm and inviting, if it weren’t for the heavy bags underneath.
“Pro’ly,” I slur as I rise from my knees, using the defiled trunk as a fail-safe. There seem to be nothing but trees around, which means we’re probably smack-dab in the middle of the Great Youkai Forest. “Why’re we here?”
She stands as well and reminds me that even though I’m a bit taller than most in Gensokyo, I still need to look up slightly to meet her gaze. “You left a note on my door,” she replies with that dopey smile of hers. “The note read as such: ‘Ms. Kagiyama, please tell me when the next spirited away party is.’ It happens to be tonight, so I immediately went to your dwelling to let you know. You were adamant in attending, despite the poisoned state of your body. Therefore, I decided to join you.”
My memories conjure up a vague feeling that she’s right. I remember having a drink and leaving that note on Miss Kagiyama’s door. Then there was another drink, and another after that, then more besides. But it doesn’t matter now. I pat my coat down to make sure I have the essentials: wallet, apartment key, and cell phone. Then there’s the secret weapon—my trusty revolver—strapped at my lower left side. “Dunno why you bother with someone like me,” I mutter, “but if you’re comin’, you’re comin’. Let’s mosey.”
As I step forward, Miss Kagiyama snugly links her right arm with my left, narrowly missing my gun. “Then we shall walk as one.”
My first reaction is to separate, but the distinct feeling of something warm and soft rubbing against my arm persuades me otherwise. It also distracts me from the chirping blackness all around us, where anything could be lurking. While one arm is held by Miss Kagiyama, I keep my other tense. There’s six bullets in my revolver—that’s six chances to survive whatever might jump out at us.
I blurt out a random thought to stop the silence from creeping into my bones. “You uh, think I’ll be cursed for pukin’ on that tree?”
Her grip on me tightens just slightly as her eyes peer far ahead, beyond the trees, the forest, and the night itself. “Do not worry about that.”
###
Paths fade and return in this quiet part of the forest. I stumble through with maybe a hundredth of the grace of Miss Kagiyama, whom the branches seem to part ways for. Slowly, I pick up on the rich sound of a violin, accompanied by the chaotic blare of a brass trumpet and a chorus of laughter and chatter—the likes of which aren’t common in Gensokyo nowadays. The faintest of breezes carries the pleasing smells of tobacco smoke and meat to my nostrils. It all grows louder and stronger until we enter a clearing illuminated only by the strong light of the waxing moon above, where the instruments have crescendoed into a full party. Two spectral entertainers float above the crowd as their instruments hover beside them, seemingly playing themselves. A group of maybe fifty people dance and laugh below, made up of all kinds of humans and numerous types of youkai: bird girls with fluttering wings dancing with drunken old men, rabbit girls with flopping ears listening to the woes of businessmen, and canine girls with wagging tails chasing around village youth, among others whose features aren’t so obvious. It’s not quite the seedy underbelly of Gensokyo that the tengu want everyone to believe it is. But it’s no paradise, either.
I reach into my coat pocket and pull out the photograph of Shizuha Aki that Hatate gave me earlier today. Like most of Hatate’s thoughtography, she’s depicted her subject in a straightforward pose from the chest up against a solid background, like it’s a school photo. Even though Hatate mentioned that the two sisters were close to identical, there are plenty of differences to me. Shizuha Aki’s hair is a lighter blonde—though still not a match for the head of golden hair I spotted behind the apartment building—and her eyes are a piercing yellow. She’s also thinner in just about every aspect, giving her face a more gaunt and hardened mien compared to her sister. Maybe these kinds of things don’t mean anything to a youkai, or maybe Hatate was just spouting whatever nonsense came to her head before she could think, like usual.
Continuing down the photo, all she’s wearing is a red dress of some sort—no fruits attached. However, there does seem to be a couple of bright red leaves stuck in her hair. I wonder where she found those. But the relatively plain get-up is likely from Shizuha Aki’s wardrobe and not something that Hatate conjured up, since Hatate’s tastes border on the extreme when it comes to dressing up other women. The sight of little Q being pushed out in front of us in a bright red micro-bikini with dangling jingle bells from the tips still haunts me whenever I’m relieving myself of my demons, so to speak. And she hasn’t shown up to a Christmas party since.
“PI.” Miss Kagiyama leans in close and speaks directly into my ear, her warm breath and rich tone bypassing the fog of noise around us. Between that and the softness still pressing against my arm, it seems like there will be more demons to vanquish before bed tonight. “Are you alright? Is the poison still troubling you?”
The photo slips easily back into my coat pocket as I pull away from Miss Kagiyama just a bit. “Right as rain, sober as a bird. Just got lost in my thoughts.”
“It will not rain tonight, but there are plenty of birds here tonight, it seems. Unfortunately, I doubt they will be of sound mind. And I am glad you are feeling better. You are searching for Shizuha Aki, are you not? It does not seem like she is present.”
I lock eyes with Miss Kagiyama, who returns her usual pleasant smile. “Miss Kagiyama, do you know the Aki sisters? Shizuha, in particular?”
“Do I know them?” she repeats back to me while pondering. “I know them much less than I know you. Or Hatate. Or even the little kappa. But we have exchanged words, yes. Oh yes. Minoriko was insistent that I avoid their farm, especially during the autumn season. Shizuha was the one who would stop me if I wandered too close to them.”
So much for rural hospitality. She’s a little off, sure, but I can’t imagine treating Miss Kagiyama like a pest. Interesting that Minoriko would call out to her when she was in need of help, if that was their attitude. But that’s just how people can be. “So Shizuha Aki is used to playing scarecrow. Thanks, Miss Kagiyama. Just one last thing. How did you feel when Minoriko asked you for help with her sister?”
Miss Kagiyama watches me with blank eyes, unblinking. I might as well have asked her how to get to the moon. Though knowing Miss Kagiyama, she might have an answer for that one. After a few moments, she smiles. “How did I feel? I was hopeful that you might find Shizuha Aki. Does that help?”
Figures she would say something like that. She never gives anything away, or maybe there really is nothing to give in the first place. I still haven’t sussed her out yet, after knowing her for years. “Don’t worry about it. I’m going to take a look around.”
She doesn’t let go. “Then we will take a look around.”
“Miss Kagiyama, I’m grateful for your help so far, but this is an investigation, I’ll remind you.”
Her smile doesn’t budge an inch. She hasn’t blinked in a while. The seconds pass.
I sigh for the show of it, more than anything. Every so often, she’ll insist on something like this. There’s no convincing her whenever it happens. And I may not know a lot about Miss Kagiyama herself, but she’s been wandering around Gensokyo ever since I met her and never had any problems. So she’s either very good at avoiding trouble, or trouble is very good at avoiding her. “Alright, fine. You’re a strong woman, Miss Kagiyama.”
She blinks and I swear her smile grows just a fraction of an inch. “You have said as much before.”
Instead of worrying about who I’m with, I’ll focus on what I’m going to do. I cast my gaze out into the crowd—as much as I can see, anyways. The moon is strong tonight, but it’s still not enough for me to see everything going on. They never use proper lights or even torches at these things, probably because it would just be a greater risk of attracting a tengu patrol. Most of the partygoers are gathered around the instruments, but there are some on the sidelines who are drinking and relaxing. Some blankets and cushions have even been thrown down for it. I spot someone who’s assisted me in the past sitting alone on one of the pillows: a small girl with gray mouse ears and a long, smoking pipe in one hand. While I consider whether it’s worth being in her debt, a purple bird youkai I recognize breaks free from the performance, clutching the hand of a young man. And further away from the music is a food stand of some sort, which must be the source of that meaty smell. Another bird youkai—I assume so because of the pink wings growing from her back—is behind the smoking grill, hard at work for a meager amount of customers.
[ ] The purple bird youkai with her human partner.
[ ] The pink bird youkai working the grill.
[ ] The mouse youkai smoking a pipe on a cushion.
[x] The purple bird youkai with her human partner.
[x] The purple bird youkai with her human partner.
I was just re-reading the original two days ago and now you go and post this. Very much looking forward to it.
Ex-wife best girl. No one else in the story even compares.
[X] The purple bird youkai with her human partner.
birdie
Interesting, seems like the same baggage laden hero as the first city of harsh fantasies. or maybe someone new who doesn't have a bad redhead?
[X] The mouse youkai smoking a pipe on a cushion.
Gensokyo might be under a gray purgatory, but seeing this story coming back has lit me up like a three-legged nuclear fireball. Really excited to actually participate this time around!
[X] The mouse youkai smoking a pipe on a cushion.
A known associate with a knack for finding lost things seems like the obvious person to ask here. Looking forward to seeing where this story goes.
[X] The pink bird youkai working the grill.
Mystia! nice!
...uh, I am drawing a blank on our purple friend, that isn't Hatate? outside??
if it is I might change the vote.
anyways, this looks interesting! sounds like there is a previous version so I will go try to find that...
[X] The pink bird youkai working the grill.
Nice to see this story (sort of) back. Though I am curious, why a reboot instead of a continuation? Did you write yourself into a corner or something?
First off, thank you very much everyone for the wonderful reception to the OP! I'm not calling votes yet, but I just wanted to respond to a couple of things. I'll probably wait until this coming weekend is over to call votes, just to give people some time to notice. I think I got the story on the Story List alright, but if I did anything wrong, please let me know.
>>69797
For the sake of clarification because my description was too vague: that isn't Hatate, it's Tokiko. I should have specified purple hair or mentioned her wings, sorry about that. If you or anyone else does end up wanting to change your vote, just let me know.
>>69798
I apologize for the incoming blog, but I'd like to give a proper explanation, given how I abandoned the original story (and that little scrap story I started just to try and write anything else).
The short answer is yes, I wrote myself into a corner by biting off far more than I could chew and having no ending to wrap it all up. Even if I cut the infamous SDM arc short, my only ideas after that were to vaguely retread all of the Touhou games in CoHF's world before Yukari gets involved and somehow brings things to a conclusion. And as you might imagine from that name coming up, it all felt very uninspired to me and I ended up deleting that particular influence on the plot.
The overly-long answer is that I funnily enough ended up with my own IRL crazy ex who messed me up, which led to the hiatus (hiatuses?). When I came back years later to the story, I had very few notes of my original plans for the story and no overarching antagonist except for a vague encounter between Remilia and the mountain tengu. I decided (foolishly, in my opinion) to try writing an entire second draft of the threads thus far with some scenes tweaked to add a new antagonist. After spending a couple of years on that, I realized that writing nearly the exact same story again, copying the same votes as the original, posting it all in its entirety, and expecting everyone to read it and keep track of all the differences was probably completely insane. So it was back to the drawing board again, which ended up being a gray purgatory of its own (very thankful to Moral by the way, for proofreading a few of those drafts during that time). Then several things inspired me at the same time, I had some new ideas, and it's been long enough, so I decided to go with a full reboot to properly set up everything I have in mind. There will be character and story beats that inevitably line up, but the idea is for CoHF to have its own, focused story that originates from more thought than what I had before I started the first run ("I've never written anything longer than a short story, so I want to write a test story in /others/ before I write a story about my waifu"). RIP Kana, maybe one day :(
>>69799
>The overly-long answer is that I funnily enough ended up with my own IRL crazy ex who messed me up
Look at the bright side, now you get to air combo your bad stuff by writing expertly about it because you have experience dealing with it. I do hope you're not too affected by it.
Tokiko had occurred to me... though I had mostly dismissed her as a possibility since the purple was just a couple of locks of her hair with most of it being white... (and the picture I glaced at for her the clothing looked more blue than purple...) I might still consider switching since Tokiko doesn't get a lot of attention...but we also have Mystia as an option so its a hard choice.
[X] The mouse youkai smoking a pipe on a cushion.
[X] The purple bird youkai with her human partner.
I'm going to go ahead and call the votes here. Thank you to all readers, voters, and commenters!
>>69800
Thank you! That's the plan, though "expertly" is a bit of a stretch, in my own opinion. I still feel plenty rusty writing-wise, but I myself am in a much better place now than I was back then.
>>69802
Seems like you didn't have to worry about it, haha. Again, sorry for the confusion.
[ X ] The purple bird youkai with her human partner.
That little bird owes me a favor and it’s time to collect. But with Miss Kagiyama wrapped around my arm, I feel like a schoolboy being led around by a teacher. Maybe that isn’t the worst thing in the world on its own, but it’s not the kind of reputation I want. “Miss Kagiyama, I’m okay with you tagging along, but I’d like my arm back.”
She considers my plight for a few moments, then surrenders her grip and takes a step away. Immediately, I feel the cool void on my entire left side, which for one second makes me wonder if I should have just let her hang on a while longer. But I have a job to do, and anything I feel about Miss Kagiyama’s body is just a cruel trick of my lonely brain. She seems to be touchy with anyone and everyone who will let her, and I’ve never been able to get a straight answer out of her for why. I think I’m just the one who lets her get away with it the most, for what might be less-than-chaste reasons.
Unfortunately, the little bird has run off somewhere, so I lead Miss Kagiyama around the crowd. As we pass by the loafers smoking and drinking on the sidelines, I meet eyes with the gray mouse-girl for just a moment. We share a brief nod of acknowledgement before I move along and she continues puffing smoke from her pipe. Nazrin is a valuable asset, but I have enough haughty youkai in my life to worry about. I’d rather call in a favor than make a new one.
The stares from the other partygoers, however, are less cordial. I’m enough of a pariah on my own, but I have Miss Kagiyama with me, who also gets side-eyed. I’m used to it, but I can’t help but feel bad for Miss Kagiyama, who ignores it all and beams her trademark smile to anyone within her radius. All of them avoid her wandering gaze. Even the ghostly violinist shoots us a glare from above as we go by the crowd, like she’s telling us to get our business done and get out. I guess once people realize that someone like me is poking around for information, the mood gets tense. Oh well. That’s their problem—until they decide to make it mine, that is.
“The Prismrivers are in good form tonight,” Miss Kagiyama remarks. “Playing an instrument seems like such a lovely pursuit.”
I’m starting to get nervous. Miss Kagiyama has a penchant for dancing; that in and of itself is fine. But something about the way she dances isn’t right. During a full moon long ago, I happened to catch her spinning in the road in front of the apartment building when I was coming back from a late-night bender. It was abhorrent. As cruel as it might sound, I never want to see that again. “Let’s stick to the case,” I tell her. “We can enjoy ourselves later.”
She whips her head around to face me, her eyes widened with joy. “Ah! Then let us take care of business.”
Shit. That was not how I should have worded it. I leave the topic hanging there for now and move along. That little bird has to be around here somewhere. Sure enough, I find her—up against a tree and locked in a fierce tongue battle with the young man she was pulling along earlier. Her black wings with crimson feathers twitch and spasm as she wraps one of her slender legs around his waist and grinds her hips against his. One of her hands grips his shoulderblade and digs in, while the other clutches a giant, open bottle of sake off to the side. The young man in question seems to still be in his teenage years and, judging from his complete lack of ability to match her aggressive movements, a virgin. He can’t quite decide where to put his hands: trying to caress her white-and-purple hair until he gets poked by one of her tiny horns, holding her up by the middle of her back, or fumbling with her ass. Her frilly, black skirt hikes up just a bit more than I’d like to see, revealing a surprisingly delicate-looking piece of violet cloth flossing her meaty thighs. A sweaty, fishy smell hits me like a fist to the nose. I know exactly what it is, of course, I just don’t want to think about it any longer.
“Surprisingly bold for a little bookworm,” I remark, to announce my presence and hopefully deescalate whatever this is. However, if they heard me, they don’t seem to care.
Miss Kagiyama watches the pair with a daze in her eyes that I can’t quite place but concerns me deeply. “I did not know a youkai could feast upon a human in such a way,” she says. “Should I enjoy watching them?”
Yeah, I have to bring an end to this. Last thing I need is for Miss Kagiyama to get any funny ideas. “Tokiko! I’m here to collect your debt!”
The little bird freezes and pries her mouth off her partner, turning around to gape at Miss Kagiyama and me in astonishment as a trail of drool slides down her chin. Her cheeks are flushed bright red and I can see the steamy look in her eyes turn to panic in real-time. “Ah! Th-the detective and Hina Kagiyama?!”
The young man catches on a bit late, still attempting to go at it for a moment before realizing that the fun times are over. They let each other go and he faces me with that jumpy look like he’s in the midst of deciding whether to fight or fly. He seems like a typical youth closer to poverty than not: short hair, tired eyes, plain clothes, and a dirty face like he came straight here from second shift at a factory. I’m sure it didn’t take much convincing on Tokiko’s part for him to end up in the spot he’s in.
“That’s us,” I answer. “Sorry for uh, intruding.”
Tokiko hurriedly wipes her mouth and flattens her skirt. “N-no, I um, uh, was just, um...”
Her partner steps between us, having collected himself much faster. Seems like he decided to fight instead of fly. Brave kid. “Is something wrong here, Tokiko?” he asks his tongue boxing opponent, not letting his dark eyes waver from mine.
I put on my best business smile. It would be a waste of time and energy to have to knock some horny teenager out because of a misunderstanding. “Not at all,” I answer for her. “Just need a few questions answered. I helped her out of a rough spot a while ago, and she still owes me for that. In fact, you could help too.”
This deflates him enough to where he steps aside and just seems confused by the situation. He turns back to Tokiko, who finally seems to be able to string together a coherent sentence. “He caught me stealing books from the second-hand shop,” she explains quickly. “He worked it out to where I can borrow old books from there sometimes.”
The realization hits him and he turns back to me with a squinted, wary look. “Oh. You’re that detective or whatever that messes with youkai all the time? I’ve heard the rumors.”
“Nothing good, I bet,” I remark quickly, as I pull out Shizuha Aki’s thoughtographed photo and hold it out to them. “Could the two of you take a look at this? Have you seen this woman hanging around here before? Goes by the name of Shizuha Aki.”
“Never heard of her,” the youth speaks up first. “And honestly, it’s too dark to see worth a damn here.”
“Oh!” Tokiko reacts with a start. Unfortunately, it’s not to Shizuha Aki’s photo. “I forgot about Mystia’s—um, I mean, we can get you some grilled lamprey after this that will help.”
Is that what that pink bird youkai was grilling, lamprey? And I don’t remember lamprey ever being a cure for night blindness. Something’s suspicious about all that, but it’s not my business until someone pays for it to be.
Tokiko refocuses on the photo and thinks. “Actually, I remember seeing someone like this last week. She looked pretty standoffish. I didn’t talk to her.”
“Did anyone speak to her?” I press her.
“Umm, no. Not that I saw. A few minutes later, she was gone.”
Damn. Not much to go on, but it’s something. Maybe Shizuha Aki was trying to find that pest of a youkai here, but came up empty-handed. “Thanks. If you see her, find me as soon as you can.”
She blinks a couple of times. “Is that all? Are we even now?”
I grin. “Hmm, you’re right, that isn’t much of a favor compared to how much I had to kiss Rinnosuke’s ass to get him to let you borrow books from him. How about that bottle of sake too? Then we’re even.”
She wastes no time thrusting the bottle of sake at me. When I get my hands on it, I can feel that it’s a little more than half-full. They were probably too focused on drinking each other’s fluids, instead. “We’re even then,” she says. “I’ll keep an eye out for your Satsuki person.”
“Shizuha,” I correct her. “Shizuha Aki.”
“Shi-zu-ha A-ki,” she repeats to herself slowly. “Okay. Shizuha Aki. Got it.”
The young man watches Tokiko’s mind work with a silly look on his face, like something inside of him is being completed. I remember that expression. It never boded well for me. “Good,” I conclude. “Now you two can go back to uh, what you were doing.”
Tokiko’s face flushes again, before she grabs the young man’s hand and whisks him away in the direction of that pink bird youkai’s grill stand. The young man turns back to look at me for just a second, then returns his full attention to his whirlwind romance.
Shizuha Aki’s photo goes back into my coat pocket. I probably can’t count on that birdbrain, but it’s worth a shot. Suddenly, I remember that Miss Kagiyama is standing next to me. “Well?” I ask her. “Enjoying yourself so far?”
Her face lights up. “Of course! It is such a wonder to watch the decisions you make while working. For example, why did you not warn that young man against fraternizing with such a youkai? She could very well devour his heart and body, should they continue to meet.”
Now that’s a good question, and normally I would blow it off. But I’m more inclined to answer if Miss Kagiyama is the one asking. “He’s young, but I can’t exactly call him a child if he’s willing to get down and dirty like that. And Tokiko can’t manipulate the microwave at a Kappa Mart, let alone a person. No, he’s making his own choices. If anything, he might end up being the one who devours her.”
Miss Kagiyama just smiles. “I am not certain I understand your perspective, but I enjoy hearing it nonetheless.”
Again, I really don’t see what she gets out of all this. But I guess I could offer her something more tangible. I hold up the sake bottle. “Would you like to split this, Miss Kagiyama? I don’t think we’ll find any cups or glasses here though.”
She nods with pep. “I would like nothing better!”
A lady who doesn’t mind drinking straight from the bottle shoots up a few points in my book. I pass it to her first. She immediately puts the bottle to her mouth and turns it up towards the sky. Many hearty gulps later, she lowers it and hands it back to me while licking her lips. “I have taken exactly half of what remained in the bottle.”
I gape at her for only a second, before realizing I should have expected nothing less and accept the bottle back. “I can see that. Definitely impressive, but usually the idea of drinking together is that we drink, uh, together.”
“But now I can watch you drink, uninterrupted. Or perhaps you would like to drink as swiftly as I did, so that we can resume the investigation?”
It isn’t often that I guzzle sake down like that, but given how lukewarm it feels and how cheap it smells, maybe Miss Kagiyama has the right idea. I choke down the rest of the bitter drink all at once, closing my eyes and focusing on my throat muscles. Tastes like it was made in someone’s kitchen sink, but at least it burns nice.
Miss Kagiyama has closed her eyes, and seems to be nodding along to the rhythm of the music—and I use the term loosely. The smooth violin is contrasted so harshly now by the random, bombastic trumpet flares that it sounds more like an argument than a piece of art. I can’t help but feel like something is missing. Yet the crowd loves it. Humans and youkai alike are captivated by the chaotic flow of notes and tones. “Do you come to these things often, Miss Kagiyama?”
She opens her eyes but continues bobbing her head. “Not as often as I would like. I am known to most of the youkai here, and I do not feel like my presence is suffered here lightly.”
What a way to put it. Turns out she’s plenty aware of her own reputation, and came here to have a good time in spite of it. I can respect that. “What could they possibly have against you? You’re gentle, you’re helpful, and you’re not a bad looker either. I’ve never understood why you’re such a pariah.”
Her head stops bobbing, and her smile lowers. “Oh, I am no pariah. That is something I am quite familiar with. No, this is nothing.” Then she perks up again. “I enjoy my life now. And that includes you, Hatate, and the little kappa as well. But we need to return to the investigation, no?”
Pretty words aside, she really can evade a question when she wants to. But she’s right. “One day I’ll find out what makes you tick, Miss Kagiyama. Just not tonight, apparently.”
She blinks a few times. “Are you speaking of a clock? I do not carry one, unfortunately.”
I restrain a sigh. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s see if we can talk to anyone else.”
Miss Kagiyama and I make a few laps, asking any lone partygoers or occasionally a pair if they’ve ever seen Shizuha Aki. None of them had. I keep an eye out for Nazrin, but it seems like she’s already left. Perhaps she smelled what I’m up to and decided she didn’t want any part of it. Or, maybe she just caught a whiff of cheese somewhere, who knows. Wait a minute—as a mouse youkai, wouldn’t she be considered a pest and a small fry? I just can’t imagine her tormenting the Aki sisters’ fields for so long. She acts all high-and-mighty, but she’s just a cowardly pipsqueak when push comes to shove. Shizuha Aki would be able to chase her off, no problem. I thought I might be able to ask whoever’s running that grill stand, but that pink bird youkai got awful busy once everyone realized that they need some grilled meat to settle a stomach full of cheap booze.
By this point, I’m tired. The sake from earlier has made its rounds through my bloodstream, on top of what was already there. My feet ache and my stomach gurgles. Just when I’m feeling silly enough to call it quits for tonight, I get a tap on my shoulder. At first I think it’s Miss Kagiyama, but she’s standing on my other side. I turn around and see a young woman wearing a brown cap that’s a size too large for her, causing the visor to slump down towards her brow and cover most of her eyes. She has a big, toothy business smile, with a matching brown jacket and shorts. “Hello there! My friend told me you were asking around about Shizuha Aki. Is that true?”
There’s something overly-chipper and high-pitched about her voice that makes her suspicious, but if she’s willing to come right up to me and talk about Shizuha Aki, then I can’t exactly turn her away. “Yeah, that’s right. She’s been missing for about a week. Do you know anything?”
“I was visiting the Eientei branch clinic a couple nights ago—just to pick up some, err, emergency feminine products on the cheap—and happened to spot her in the waiting room looking pretty beat-up. Like she lost a fight.”
The clinic? That’s awfully serendipitous. “You’re certain it was her? Did you speak with her at all?”
She nods. “Believe me mister, I don’t get names and faces wrong. I didn’t talk to her though. Even a nosy gal like me can tell when someone wants to be left alone.”
Somehow, I don’t believe that. But if nobody else here knows Shizuha Aki by name, then I can only assume this girl knows her personally. “Who are you?”
Her grin gets a degree more wicked. “Oh, just someone around. But right now, I’d be more worried about your companion causing a little unfortunate incident of her own.”
The girl points to where Miss Kagiyama was standing, and I turn to suddenly realize that Miss Kagiyama is no longer there. I look around, but my companion, as the girl put it, is nowhere in sight. She had been pretty quiet when it came to me talking to others, so I didn’t even notice. Did she end up getting drunk from chugging that sake?
I look back to the girl, and now she’s gone too. Fuck. I didn’t hallucinate all of that, did I? The only person I can ask has wandered off. Wait, if that girl said that Miss Kagiyama was about to start an incident, does that mean—
A cry suddenly rings out from the center of the crowd, below the performers. With some people cleared away, I can see Miss Kagiyama there, spinning. Spinning that dance that makes my stomach sink and shiver and fold up in itself. Spinning that dance that makes the most inoffensive woman emit the foulest aura of unease and bitterness. Spinning that dance that spirals me into a time that has been forgotten by everyone except me, the person who wants to forget most but can’t. Can’t, because someone has to remember. Can’t, because then what will become of those girls who were bled out and carved like livestock in the streets?
The music attempts to swell to cover Miss Kagiyama’s disturbance up, but there’s no stopping it. More cries and laughter. Then—
CRACKLE BOOM!
An explosion, but it’s not the friendly, happenstance kind of explosion from Q getting a little carried away in the workshop. No, it’s a bolt of lightning from a clear sky that strikes one of the nearby trees, setting it on fire. One of the youkai, a large woman with red hair, rips the tree out of the ground and swings it around in the midst of frantic cheers, like she’s rallying for something. Miss Kagiyama keeps twirling about, giggling to herself, seemingly dead to everything around her. Even when the youkai woman hurls the burning tree at her, she shifts out of the way effortlessly, letting it crash and break apart against the ground behind her with a loud snap that ends some unspoken truce between all these youkai. Because that’s exactly when the danmaku starts flying.
The humans hit the ground and scurry away, like I’m doing. I thought Miss Kagiyama’s performance only affected me like that. Is that why she isn’t so welcome here? A bright pink orb of something strikes the grass next to me with a loud thwack, so I stop thinking and scurry a little faster behind a nearby tree just thick enough to count as some kind of cover. I’m pale, sweaty, and pregnant with nausea, so I decide to abort it all by jabbing myself in that perfect spot right in the center of my stomach that makes me retch and cringe and finally puke it all out. Once more, I cover an innocent tree trunk in bubbling bile and shitty, regurgitated booze. When will my crimes end?
Through all the shouts and screams and whizzing danmaku bullets, the two instruments keep playing even as their players start firing danmaku of their own at each other. It’s all an orchestra, at this point. And it’s loud. So damned loud. I want to scream just to hear anything else, but I’m terrified that she’s still out there somewhere. Watching the chaos. Waiting for me to cry out. Prepared to come running.
I pull myself up and turn around just in time to see the young man who was with Tokiko earlier, sprinting through the trees—but not away from the mess behind me. No, he’s running in the opposite direction of something else deeper in the forest, where the moon’s light can’t penetrate the pitch-blackness. Running as fast as he can, eyes wider than dinner plates. Never looking back once. No madness or shame. Just pure fear. No more whirlwind romance.
A girl screams from that same direction the youth is running from—loud, ringing, like murder. It’s a familiar scream.
There’s nothing for me in that darkness. My head knows that. Even my heart knows that. I had better just run away and get out of this forest with the rest of the smart ones. Back to the apartment, back home. Then I’ll put this night behind me and keep looking for Shizuha Aki in the morning. I have a case, after all. I need to focus on the case. I can’t go off chasing after every scream in Gensokyo. I can’t save every little bird from being hopelessly, ruthlessly violated.
But I can’t let myself stop trying, either. The truth is out there. My gun is ready. It’s probably more ready than I am. But one foot goes in front of the other, and deeper into the forest I go.
My right hand clutches the handle of my revolver through a cold layer of sweat, and I keep my left held up and out in front of my face to deflect any stray branches that might otherwise poke an eye out. The withered scraps of fallen, gray leaves on the forest floor prevent me from being silent, so I move as fast as I can without risking smacking into a tree trunk head-on. The noises behind me fade away and nothing ahead fills the void—no birds, no insects, not anything. They must be just as scared of whatever’s in here as I am.
Just ahead of me, pale light from the moon shines down on a small clearing behind some trees. As quietly as I can, I creep up to the tree trunk and listen to what’s on the other side: a sickening, wet gulping noise, and muffled screams.
No time to prepare. Could already be too late. Two breaths: the first to calm down, and the second to focus. Then I grip my revolver with both hands and emerge from the trees, pointing at whatever it is.
I was wrong. The moonlight doesn’t reach down here. Instead, a large, ghostly serpent lays in the middle of the clearing, glowing with a sinister light that fills the grassy clearing. Its jaws are open and disjointed, gradually slipping around Tokiko’s body and engulfing her head-first. Her red, half-consumed wings struggle weakly, and her legs—wet with a frothy mixture of blood and the beast’s saliva—squirm and attempt vainly to dig into the dirt. When I notice that its eyes, those two blood-red orbs, have shifted to me, my insides twist and contort. All of the energy in my body starts to drain down through my legs and out my feet. Is it a snake, or some kind of dragon? I can’t tell. But I do know one thing.
This monster will devour me completely.
Before the blood fully drains from my hands, I squeeze the trigger three times, without regard to accuracy or recoil. Each time, a burst of light from my gun roars in the air and sends a lead bullet at the creature. I don’t know where or even if they all land, but the snake suddenly lurches upward with Tokiko still hanging in its mouth, and swings its whole body towards me.
It hits me before I can even see it. And then I see no more.
###
When I open my eyes, I’m greeted by the sight of familiar, beige walls. It’s my bedroom, and someone has taken the courtesy of tucking me into my queen-sized bed buck naked. The room is nice and dark, except for the offending sunlight peeking through the blinds. The digital alarm clock next to me displays the time, 9:16 AM, with red numbers. A later start than usual, but unsurprising given the circumstances. My head, arms, legs, and chest ache just from laying here, but I don’t seem to be bandaged or otherwise externally injured. Just battered. I gather all of my strength and hoist myself up and off the mattress, gritting my teeth through the surge of pain from my joints and muscles.
Next to my alarm clock on the nightstand is my gun, with a note on top of it: I am sorry. It's a girlish print that’s easy to recognize from the notes I find around the apartment complex every once in a while, warning of slippery floors, broken washing machines, or malfunctioning lights. It’s Miss Kagiyama’s handwriting. Was she the one who brought me back and put me in bed? I don’t know how else I would have made it out of that predicament. My revolver seems to be in good condition, sans three bullets. I need to buy more ammo—if Rinnosuke even has any in stock.
Then I become distinctly aware of something else in the room breathing. I look behind me, and on the other side of the bed is a small girl with messy, blonde hair that goes down to her shoulders. Her white face is round—and frankly, very cute—without so much as a blemish on it. Maybe that snake really did kill me, so I woke up next to an angel. She definitely isn’t Shizuha Aki, but I can’t place why this little golden head is familiar somehow. Her collarbone is exposed, so I take a quick peek under the blanket just to see if my suspicion is correct. And yep, she’s just as naked as I am. She’s also certainly a child, or at least something that’s decided to take the form of a child.
This is an extremely compromising situation to be in. I can somewhat understand why Miss Kagiyama wouldn’t dress me before putting me in bed. But what’s the deal with this girl? I assumed Miss Kagiyama was apologizing about what happened at the party, but what if it’s something else entirely? Is there something I’m forgetting?
She suddenly moves and my heart leaps out of my chest. But she’s just rolling over to cover herself with more blankets. I sigh in relief, and dedicate myself to slowly and quietly pulling a fresh pair of underwear out of the nearby dresser, then grabbing my robe hanging off the door. After covering the essentials, I feel much less tense around this mystery girl. I’m writing out a list of what I need to do in my head, but only one thing can come first:
[ ] Try to wake the girl up.
[ ] Leave her for now and check on Miss Kagiyama upstairs.
[ ] Slip into the living room and log into #kakashi to report to Hatate.
[X] Leave her for now and check on Miss Kagiyama upstairs.
Hopefully, Hina can help us remember what happened last night and give us a better picture before we have to report it. Let the perfectly ordinary girl with nothing strange going on enjoy her rest.
[x] Slip into the living room and log into #kakashi to report to Hatate.
eheheheheheh
[X ] Slip into the living room and log into #kakashi to report to Hatate.
Let sleeping dragons snakes lie while still getting information without leaving the room for Hatate and Hina surely have talked to each other.
[X] Slip into the living room and log into #kakashi to report to Hatate.
[X] Leave her for now and check on Miss Kagiyama upstairs.
It's a tough decision, but I think the best one.
[X] Try to wake the girl up.
WAKE UP
[X] Leave her for now and check on Miss Kagiyama upstairs.
Okay, it seems I found a story I love. Also, Hina.
