Yuuma, slowly, hesitantly, lifted the cup to her lips. She braced herself, resolved to just get it over with, and downed the contents in one gulp. Every inch and piece of her throat screamed in agony, but she kept forcing it down, resisting the urge to try and spit it up. When she’d finally finished, she leaned forward, gasping with exhaustion.

Next time she met Yachie, she’d make soup out of her. She sat the cup down, reaching for the small whiteboard at the top of a pile of the same.

Done.
Go away.

The eagles around her nodded, nervously flapping away. They were timid, irritably so, and had been since Yachie’s kiss of death. Yuuma’s mood in the aftermath was not helping, but their cowardice only irritated her further, creating a death-spiral that Yuuma just didn’t have the energy to try and fix.

The otters had peeled her off the concrete, stuck her in a rickety wheelbarrow from the park they’d claimed from her, and put as much ceremony as possible in what amounted to a small, impromptu parade, bringing her up to the bridge where she’d first intercepted them before having great fun watching the wheelbarrow tumble into the canals. These were largely not the otters they’d been fighting all day, but fresh, bright-eyed recruits from other fronts, and the beleaguered eagles of the canal territory did little more than watch.

She could have just let her body be destroyed, but whatever damage the swordsman had done to her, it was having a lingering effect. She could still feel it was suppressing her ability to devour anything. While her external body had healed to the point she could fight again, if she was destroyed without her ability to devour, she might take a long, long time to reform. And Gouyoku morale was already in the pits with her just incapacitated; she had no choice but to deal with the indignities and keep her carcass running until her power came back. She’d never expected that she’d ever hate the idea of eating - not eating something generally considered gross, just eating in general - but Yachie’s blight still loomed through her, and made it a torturous experience. She’d still cough up charcoal from time to time.

Angrily, she threw the whiteboard away, making a dent in the far wall. All of the damn eagles were useless - fucking useless.

…Except for the one that brought in a stack of whiteboards. He was smart. He was destined for great things.

Yuuma sighed, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling lights. She could hear the panicked voices of the eagles downstairs, and she just couldn’t be bothered to help, even though she knew whatever situation was unfolding was likely dire. This area was getting hemmed in, more and more too. The Keiga had been getting more and more aggressive, the Otters were eager for blood still, and with Yuuma incapacitated, other, smaller families had decided this was their chance to act, or that Gouyoku was no longer a good alliance to be in. She needed to heal up, and soon, or else-

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Or else someone would find her. A black silhouette filled the room, with hair as dark as midnight. Yuuma groaned, knowing full well what was about to happen.

The leader of the Keiga family strode in, oozing smugness as only one who wore a cowboy hat could. “My, my, my. It’s really true?” The woman put her ridiculous boot up on Yuuma’s bed. “The undefeatable matriarch laid low. I never expected to see the big bad Yuuma hooked up to an IV drip!”

Yuuma flicked her a rude gesture, which Keiga scoffed at. “Come on, Yuuma. No sassy comebacks?” Saki Kurokoma grinned, clapping her hand on a broken leg and drawing out a gasp from the taotie. “Come on, cat got your tongue?”

Yuuma grabbed one of the whiteboards and began to scrawl out an angry response.

Asshole.

Saki looked at the board. Then at the stack of other boards. Then at the boards on the floor. Then back at Yuuma. Then the board lodged in the far wall. She could practically hear the gears turning in Saki’s head.

It started as a low chuckle. Then, it gained depth and throatiness, starting to fill the room. Before long, the pegasus was howling with laughter, at a level that threatened to level the building.

“I-you-thehahahaha! You can’t speak?! Oh man, that is hilarious!” She guffawed. “The sheep who got roasted so badly she can’t even bleat! Man, that is great.”

Yuuuma groaned, which broke into a cough. It was bad, but of all the people who could’ve found her, Saki was probably the best worst-case scenario. She loved a good fight too much to take Yuuma out, and she was probably here for something else entirely. Which meant at the very least Toutetsu would avoid taking a battering. Or at least an intentional battering - she already knew Saki’s bedside manner would leave her in a worse state than before she entered. Here 2 hear what did this?

“Yes, yes I am.” Saki beamed, grinning mischievously. “You’ll be cooperative, won’t you, Yuuma-chan?” Yuuma shuddered, her skin crawling.

Yama sent swordsman He cut me open. Yuuma paused. The throat’s Yachie The rest was ankle-biter. Saki leaned forward, mouthing out the words as she read.

“...Ankle-biter? Is that the miko I’ve been hearing about?” Yuuma nodded, prompting a tilt of Kurokoma’s head. “Did she come from the Yama too, or someone else?”

Yachie’s secret = ankle-biter. Kurokoma stared at the whiteboard. For several seconds longer than Yuuma expected, sounding it out several times. She leaned in closer to the board, supporting her weight right on one of the Taotie’s bruises. Through the pain, Yuuma wondered if adding an equals sign was a mistake and now Kurokoma was trying to calculate it. If she was, there was only so long before the pegasus overheated.

“Yachie’s… ankle-biter?” Kurokoma half muttered the question. When her face crested the board, it was pale, and sweating. “A-are… are you telling me… the miko is Yachie’s daughter?!”

And there was the burnout. Yuuma bounced the whiteboard off of Kurokoma’s head, only succeeding in getting a ricochet straight into her chest. Coughing, she pointed at the bandages around her bitten ankle, and Kurokoma examined it. “Ohhhhhhh! You meant literally. Ohhhhh thank the prince. Gave me a shock there, you know.” Another whiteboard bounced off her skull, and was even less effective than the first.

No way Yachies kid shes way too young. The last time a male jidiao had been seen anywhere in the Animal Realm had been hundreds of years ago, and by all accounts his and Yachie’s interactions had been more like a territory dispute than anything approaching procreation. …Really, there were very, very few dragons of any sort (hopefully one less soon if Yuuma had anything to say about it) and either living in the animal realm or her position as the Kiketsu Matriarch seemed to keep the few relevant bachelors away from Yachie. The idea of her doing a human was outright ludicrous on its face. Shes just some miko brat that Yachie bewitched I think.

“...I see.” Kurokoma said, after far, far too long spent trying to figure out ‘bewitched’. “So she’s the one who did the rest to you, huh? How strong is she?”

Yuuma… shuddered. She didn’t want to think about that. What the hell had that half-form been? It was stronger than she thought Mikos should be able to get. She’d fought her fair share of powerful spirits, even a few of the famous Gensokyan Peacekeepers after their deaths, and even then, that brief burst of power… And it was pure youkai extermination, but she was pretty sure that was a youkai miko. …What in hell was Yachie playing with now?

Kurokoma raised an eyebrow at the trembling taotie. “Wow… she’s that powerful, huh?” Kurokoma mulled it over, before grinning. “You think a good kick to her skull will break Yachie’s spell on her? Cos I kinda wanna fight her myself, maybe get her in the Keiga.”

Be my guest. Yuuma leaned back, feeling exhausted. Now will you go away?

Kurokoma looked over the board, assessing Yuuma. “...You’re really in a pitiful state, huh? Alright, I’ll leave you be.” She stepped up toward the window, preparing to fly, and Yuuma leaned back. Well, if the miko and Kurokoma duked it out, maybe there’d be one less problem for her to deal with either way. Hopefully the day would be relatively easy from here.

“Oh, just one more thing.” A piercing whistle made Yuuma’s eye’s shoot open, as the pegasus suddenly leapt at her. A small crew of wolves began to file in, carrying a few battered eagles and… oh no, not that. Anything but that.

The taotie tried to struggle, but Kurokoma gripped her horn like a vice, yanking her head upright. “Come on, Yuuma, you think I was just gonna let this moment pass?” She leaned down, squishing her face up against Yuuma’s and putting two fingers up in a v-sign. “No, this was always going to happen. Gonna post this up on the billboards you can see from the Gouyoku territory.”

The horse snickered, as the camera crew began a countdown. “Now, Yuuma, I’m sure you know what we’re doing, but just in case… remember to say cheese!”

Epilogue: Yuuma complete.
Loading Epilogue: Keiki...

Bishop stabbed his fork into the piece of chicken. He picked it up, looking at it cautiously.

“...Are you sure you want me to do this, Keiki-sama?” He spoke as if he was being asked to execute his best friend.

Keiki nodded, eagerly. “Yes, Bishop. I wouldn’t have installed that new system for you for nothing.” It had been the first thing she’d done, once she had finally gotten some rest. Well. Sleeping for three days straight, completely dead to the world, was a little more than ‘some’.

Bishop turned the fork over, looking at the meat disdainfully. “It just seems… unnecessary.” He said, glumly. “Isn’t more conventional fuel more efficient?”

Keiki resisted the urge to sigh. “Please, Bishop, just give it a chance, alright?” It wasn’t that he was wrong, technically. It was much, much less efficient than his internal combustion. But, to Keiki that was half the point of humanity. Efficiencies and inefficiencies balanced against each other, being able to rush or glide through the things they didn’t enjoy so they could revel in the ones they did.

A lot of her older models were all-efficiency, all the time. Endlessly focused on the results. They’d had to be, for her early conquests, when all they’d had was one clay pit to call a base. But it made adapting most of them to a fuller, more human life all the more difficult.

Most importantly, she had to give them things to enjoy. That meant giving them the functions to be able to enjoy them. No point in getting the time to stop and smell the roses if you had no sense of smell. Bishop was acting as a prototype of a new taste and digestion upgrade.

He eventually acquiesced, with a strangely sulky air. Some part of it made the statuesque soldier look more like a fussy toddler. Keiki bit back a chuckle, and set to work on her own plate.

She didn’t exactly get much time to enjoy it.

A nervous maid’s voice spoke up on her intercom. A human spirit who’d been living on the streets, recently recruited as a rescue. “Lady Keiki? Kicchou Yachie’s here. And she’s pi- she’s really mad.”

Keiki chuckled. Very, very tentatively, there was a basic agreement to allow certain members of the Kiketsu into Keiki’s territory. In the long term, it wasn’t supposed to include Yachie… but in the short, she’d been allowed to use it.

Keiki had been looking forward to the time when she would.

“Send her in!” She stuffed a bit more food into her mouth, knowing full well that she’d be busy talking for a while. “No need to intervene, Bishop; just keep eating.” The guard sagged, but did as he was commanded.

Yachie exploded into the room like a backdraft of flame. The jidiao was furious as she made her way towards the table. “Keiki. You know why I’m here.”

Keiki played innocent, to rile her up further. “Ah, Yachie, long time no see! I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The jidiao hissed, pulling out a mask. “Don’t play dumb. Asami found this in Reimu’s room.” She threw it down to the table with a clatter.

The sculptor goddess duly inspected the mask. It was a classic kitsune mask, porcelain white with red markings, and its surface was completely unbroken. Keiki looked up at the furious Yachie, and smiled innocently.

“Do you like it? Or would you have preferred if I made it a dragon? I could make one for you too, if you like.”

“Keiki.”

“I made sure to make the ears nice and tall, so when her horns grow in, they’ll still be hidden nicely.”

“Keiki.”

“And it’ll also stay on her face until she removes it, so her face can’t get exposed for her vigil-”

The jidiao roared, slamming her hands into the table. “Haniyasushin Keiki, why the FUCK are you trying to turn my daughter into a vigilante?!” Keiki grinned, sipping at her wine.

It had been just under two weeks, now, since she’d first met Kicchou Reimu. She’d bounced back from her harrowing first day remarkably well, all things considered, and had started acting on her own, while she waited for her mother to arrange safe passage to somewhere away from the city. Sneaking into the other territories - from anywhere she liked; she was the intended benefactor of the Kiketsu safe passage agreement - and taking potshots at saving a few humans from the Gouyoku and Keiga. Even the maid who’d sent the message was one of Reimu’s rescues. The mask on the table now was a little gift Keiki had sent to help her along, and smooth her efforts over.

The sculptor goddess had been anticipating the inevitable moment when Yachie found out, and so far it did not disappoint. “She’s been practising her ambush tactics, no? I thought you’d appreciate her refining her skills.” The jidiao’s eye twitched, knowing full well that Keiki had deliberately used the term Reimu normally hated.

Yachie growled. “Refining her skills is one thing, but this is just brazen tomfoolery. If Kurokoma was there, or Toutetsu makes a sudden recovery, she could be killed.”

Keiki waved her concerns off. “Oh, I’m sure she’d just do that big crystalline thing I heard about if she had to. It worked last time, didn’t it?”

The mother jidiao didn’t shift from her position. “She doesn't even know what that ability is, or how to use it yet. If your whole meddling revolves around her using that ability, you might as well kill her yourself." She folded her arms. "It is one thing for my daughter to go out on these… escapades. But it is another thing entirely for you to be going about enabling her to do it further.” Her glare was positively venomous. “I will not abide you using my daughter for your little ploys. You are not her mother.”

An idea occurred to Keiki. She glanced over, to see Bishop starting to reach for a glass of water. Perhaps this was the perfect moment to test the digestion function under duress?

She gave a dramatic sigh, throwing her hands up in a shrug. “I suppose you have a point.there. I am not her mother, after all.”

The jidiao straightened up. “As long as you understand that, then there should be no-”

“But!” Keiki gave a malicious grin, and the jidiao stiffened. The sculptor goddess raised a single finger. “I won’t let you shut me out of her life entirely. After all… I am her father, am I not?”

Yachie glared at her, and Keiki beamed back. Out of the corner of her eye, Keiki took note of Bishop. He was sipping away at his water, an eyebrow raised but no further reaction. He naturally assumed it was a throwaway comment, or just a piece of hyperbole about her assistance.

Yachie broke first. She turned her gaze away, and her expression coloured. She muttered her retort, just barely loud enough for the people sitting at the table to hear.

“You… you have no proof of that.”

And there was the spit take.

Getting sprayed with spat water did nothing to improve Yachie’s mood. Watching Yachie get sprayed did a lot to improve Keiki’s.

She chuckled. “Well, that was what you used that little token for, wasn’t it? Not like there’s any other jidiao around. Reimu herself is the evidence.”

Yachie hesitated, realising just stating that had already been a costly mistake. She took a deep breath, and swore, quietly.

Bishop whirled his head around, stuttering. “I- you- what-”

Keiki smiled. She raised her hand, gesturing to her aura-dragon. It spat out a small, golden line, and she began to weave it into a moving scene.

“I’m not surprised you’re not aware, Bishop. After all, it was before any of the Haniwa Corps were even sculpted.” She chuckled. “At the time, the primary clay bed that I use to this day was firmly in the Kiketsu territory. Naturally, of course - the land used to be under the Sanzu river, and the otters love their swimming."

Yachie glared at her, but didn’t respond. The golden lines began to form into two figures; Keiki and Yachie.

“Many warrior-gods had tried, and failed, to bring succour to the human spirits of the Animal Realm. The humans from the age of science didn’t have enough belief in their physical strength against the myriad beasts, and they weren’t well-known across the entirety of the ancient world. And as soon as one started to gain prominence, he’d be struck down, and torn to pieces.” Keiki hummed, a sad expression on her face. “What they needed wasn’t a single warrior. They need warriors, in masses, who could be defeated without faith in their holy power being lost. And they needed enough ‘science’ behind them that the newer humans could be brought into believing them. Fortunately… ceramics, and ceramic armies, were well-known, as was the idea of artificial soldiers. Where a hundred warriors had failed… a sculptor could succeed.”

The Keiki figure took a knee. “So I sought to strike a deal. I showed Yachie some conveniences of ceramics. Offered to barter them to her, if she just let me make some resources for the humans to use.”

Yachie spoke up. “I wasn’t fooled. I knew you were up to something. So I tried to run a hard bargain against you. Stall you out.”

Keiki hummed at that. “...For a time, yes. It was proving rather frustrating, but if I could make even a few soldiers, then fate would turn. But what could possibly attract the dragon of the Kiketsu? What could she possibly want? And then… inspiration struck me.”

…In hindsight, that must have been it. That must have been the twist of history that allowed Reimu to be born where she was. Keiki could have made some deal otherwise, but the idea had been too sudden, the effect too great. The golden figure of Keiki held up her arms, producing an egg from woven golden strands and proffering it to the jidiao’s facsimile.

“I offered Yachie… a miracle. No strings attached, no knowledge on my part of what she would do with it. No conditions on what that miracle was. It could be an act of resurrection, a miracle of walking on water… and…” She grinned. “Of course, I mentioned that most famous of miracles. The miracle of the virgin birth.”

Yachie flinched. Bishop's jaw hung loose. Keiki waved her fingers, and the jidiao’s facsimile snatched for the golden egg.

“All of a sudden, the whole negotiation changed. It went from how she could try to hamstring me, to how far she could bend over backwards for that miracle. She was smart enough to wait a little past the hook, so for a while I expected she was planning to turn the whole Sanzu into wine. But… well, I never saw what she did with it, so I assumed I’d never know, or that if we ever came to blows, I’d have to kill her twice.” She sipped at her wine, chuckling. “But… when I heard that girl confess her real identity… It hit me all at once.”

Yachie sighed. “...You figured that out, did you…?”

Bishop hummed. Keiki could practically hear the gears turning in his head. …Actually, she could hear them. He’d need a tune-up later. “...So that comment about being her father… it’s like in that religion the westerners like?” Keiki nodded. “If… if word of this got out… No. Even if it was just discovered that Reimu existed, and Yachie lost control of who was investigating it…”

Keiki nodded. “The whole Kiketsu Alliance could collapse, and if the full truth came out, every single animal in the entire realm would want Yachie’s head. Reimu - nice choice of kanji, by the way, ‘spirit’ and ‘dream’ for a child wished into birth in the realm of the dead - is the living proof of Yachie’s biggest mistake. The moment when Haniyasushin Keiki got a foothold in the Animal Realm.”

The jidiao trembled. Keiki could see it in her eyes - doubt. Fear. “If you - if you harm a single scale on her back -”

Keiki chuckled, shrugging. “Why would I do that to my own dear daughter? I want nothing but the very best for Reimu. So if she says she wants to train her skills in practical combat, I of course happily help shore up her disguise a bit.”

The sculptor goddess grinned. “Oh, and I haven’t told her, of course. After all, it’s still technically just a guess. And a card I could play later, if I had to. I’d assume the whole topic is taboo in the Kiketsu?” Yachie didn’t respond. “...Well. That says it all, doesn’t it? So… if she wants to train by hunting some wolves and eagles, I’ll happily say that, as her father, we should encourage her independence.”

There was silence, for a moment. Yachie took a long breath.

“Even… even if it proved to be a fatal mistake. Even if the entire realm would turn against me for that choice, if I got the chance to make it again… I would do it. A thousand times over.” She looked down. “Reimu is my daughter. And I will protect her.”

She looked down at Keiki. “And if you ever, ever, dare to breathe a word of this to Yuuma or Kurokoma or anyone else… I will use every last breath making you suffer. I’ll bring this whole realm down. No matter what it takes.” At length, she sighed. “You want to have Reimu train? ...Fine. But do not let her fall into enemy hands. When she goes through your realm to strike, you notify my forces, and let otters observe.”

Keiki nodded. “Oh, she’s too valuable to risk for either of us. There’s normally a distant haniwa escort as well.” She gestured. “Shall I get my staff to get a seating ready for you? Why don’t you join us, Yachie?”

The tortoise dragon took a deep breath, and sighed. “...Fine. We’ll talk terms.” She sat down at a seat next to Keiki, and the sculptor grinned.

Yachie was always the most negotiable of the animal realm leaders. Even if it was on shaky ground, she was an ally, at least for now. And when Reimu came of age, and managed to succeed her mother - after all, the Kiketsu were that nepotistic - the Kiketsu were as good as hers. Keiki smiled, pouring Yachie a glass of wine.

“...Though, I must admit, one thing bothers me.” Keiki hummed, as Yachie ran a finger around the rim. “Are you… not concerned about the Shrine? About her going to her other family…?” It had been bothering Keiki. If Reimu got too attached to her past life, she’d lose her future prospect for an ally. Yachie chuckled, shaking her head.

“Personally? I’m not too worried.” She raised her glass. “After all, those youkai-hunting weapons in her… they’re hereditary, right?” The sculptor goddess nodded, and the jidiao gave a sharptooth grin.

“Then the answer’s simple. I’m not afraid of her family at the shrine keeping her.” Yachie took a sip. “If the orbs have come to her… then there’s a good chance any family she could have had is already gone.”

Keiki nodded in agreement, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. It’d cause her no end of temporary distress, but her family being caught by the shinigami would only ensure Reimu came back to the Animal Realm sooner, rather than later. “Ahhhh, of course. Let’s hope that’s the case, shall we?” She lifted her glass. “Cheers?”

Yachie clinked her glass against the sculptor’s. “Cheers, Keiki. Cheers.”

It was around lunchtime when Eiki finally lifted the rod of remorse, and freed Inaba Akyuu from her prison. The Chronicler turned rabbit had bowed before her, uttered one last apology, saluted, and scampered away.

Eiki sighed. She hadn’t meant to go that far overboard, but… Akyuu had changed. And quite a lot, at that.

She didn’t even seem fully conscious of it - how light footed she was, for starters. As Eiki watched her bound away, she was taking strides that she never could have taken in her past lives.

And things she’d said while they’d been talking, just… bits and pieces of military lingo, coming from a mouth she’d never expected to hear it from. And she used ‘earth’ as a curse word? When had that happened?

In the end, perhaps it wasn’t surprising she had Re/Awakened. With such a dissonance between her two lives, it was essentially inevitable. And that didn’t make Eiki feel any better.

Slowly, the Yama got to her feet, walking out. There were other places she had to be today, after all, and… she didn’t want to become a looming presence over the poor girl. She’d already been through enough.

Slowly, the Yama made her way over to the hospital ward. A few of the rabbits saw her, and generally decided to keep a wide berth - undoubtedly a few had overheard the lecture she’d given Akyuu. Or perhaps the one she’d given Reisen, earlier in the morning. …Or the one she’d been giving Komachi as they arrived, when she found out exactly who was responsible for triggering Akyuu’s own state.

Still, there was one person who almost certainly hadn’t. As Eiki rounded the door, the Shrine Maiden looked at her in surprise, then gave a slightly-strained smile.

“Ah. Lady Eiki. Here for Akyuu, or here for the usual?”

“Haru. I’m here for Akyuu, mostly. …Though when the young Hakurei comes in, I do hope you’ll keep my previous lectures in mind.” ‘The usual’, as Haru put it, was the simple fact of how lopsided her work around the shrine was. She focused entirely on the extermination and hunting, to the point that not many villagers these days even knew the name of the Hakurei Shrine’s God. Eiki could, oh so clearly, imagine Haru focusing so much on what someone had to do as the Shrine Maiden, that her wayward daughter would never learn how or why.

Haru gave a weak smile. “Well… hopefully Reimu remembers enough of her past life that we can get to the less important stuff sooner. Kidding, kidding!” She wasn’t, but Eiki let it slide with a scowl in the Shrine Maiden’s direction. “...Anyway, I have to focus on healing up. Though… if you’re here for Akyuu, what brings you to my little room?”

The judge sighed, sitting down on a visitor’s chair. “...I’m worried about Akyuu. About… everything that’s happened to her.” She looked away. “There’s a risk she’s turning youkai-like, down to her soul.”

The shrine maiden hummed, looking up. “...But when she reincarnates, she could do it as a human again, right?”

Eiki sighed. “...Yes, but… unlike the others… some part of her memories will stay with her, and… that may lead her down a dark path.”

Haru chuckled, and seemed to regret it. “Well, Aunn was telling me the Yin-yang Orbs landed in the Animal Realm, so… I’m worried about Reimu, too. She may be a bit of a thug by the time I get to her.” She smiled. “I guess we’ll both be worrying about our daughters for a while, won’t we?” Eiki flinched, but didn’t object. She’d been as distraught as any of the biological mothers had been when Akyuu had gone missing, and when previous generations had needed some form of parental counsel, it had normally be Eiki who had stepped into the position. It wasn’t exactly an inaccurate assessment. “...And this… apocalypse I’m hearing about. Is it… really true?”

“It is, it is! Though we’re off to a good start already.” Both of the women jumped up, looking at the intruder. A blonde girl in a white robe was standing by the open window, grinning at them.

Eiki stepped defensively in front of Haru, as the latter struggled and failed to bend herself enough to grab some talismans. “Go. What are you doing here?”

“We-ell, I came to check in on the Hakurei, of course. Y’know? Because she’s gonna be super critical to the plan?” Go sat back on the windowsill, grinning sloppily. “I mean, we need her in one piece almost as much as we need the old man.”

“Old man?” Haru tilted her head. “Who do you mean?”

The mysterious girl waved it off. “Eh, suppose it doesn’t matter at this point… we need Konpaku Youki alive. But I’m not supposed to really get in the thick of it, either. Hence the soothsayer cosplay.” She waved her robed arms around, as if to indicate them.

Eiki stepped towards Go. “Not meddle? Why not?”

“Because the running theory is that whatever the apocalypse is, it comes into place and distorts fate. After all, it’s not like you’re reading that everyone’s gonna die within a week of each other right now, are you?” Eiki hummed at that. She knew from talking to Akyuu that she wasn’t lying about what she experienced, but… like Go said, there wasn’t evidence to support it.

“So… that’s why you didn’t stop me from putting my life at risk? To see if Akyuu could distort fate?” Haru’s voice had a tone of anger to it, but Go just shrugged it off. “Or was it for that glowing thing she did?”

“The Re/Awakening specifically, yeah.” Eiki sputtered. “Oh, don’t look so surprised, Yama. After all the tipoffs, are you that surprised that I know about that secret only the Yama are supposed to know?”

The Yama folded her arms. “You know, Go, if you’re trying to get me to trust you, blurting out classified information doesn’t help. Who… are you, anyways? A resident of Gensokyo?”

Go sucked in a breath. “Complicated answer, that. More complicated than I’m supposed to say. Let’s just say I’m… rather heavily invested in Gensokyo’s continued existence. And if all goes according to plan, well… you two will both not have to worry about your ‘daughters’ being thugs or soldiers.”

Haru turned her head. “And what do you mean by that?”

Eiki looked at her. “...You promised me that earlier, as well.” The yama folded her arms. “I want to know what you mean by it.”

The blonde girl chuckled. “Well… I can’t give away too much yet. But let me put it this way.” She snapped her fingers. “What I want is for Hieda no Akyuu and Hakurei Reimu to be restored back in place. For them to cast off their current selves, and return to being what they once were.” She looked out the window. “...Assuming they can save Gensokyo, my win-con is all the Immaterial Children fully ‘material’ again. But to do that, we need the help of a lot of things.”

“And what sort of things would those be?”

“We-ell, it’s hard to say the whole list.” Go shrugged. “Sorta making this up as it goes, a bit. So it’s hard to answer definitively."

Eiki had to protest at that. “Wait, what do you mean you’re making it up?!”

“Timey-wimey soul stuff isn’t my field. Heck, I’m surprised it’s anyone’s field.” The girl shrugged. “Sorta just trying to stack all the nonsense possible to get the outcome we want, you know?”

The two older women shared a nervous glance, which Go laughed off. “Relax, relax! Call it luck or fate, but so far we’re three-for-three of the Immaterial Children and the people we need lining up. At this point, it just seems like it’s all working out for us, you know? And if Reimu Re/Awakens, and saves the old man… well, that’s the biggest one done, we’re pretty sure.”

“Three for three?” Haru pulled herself up. “Who’s the third?”

“Oh, I believe that’s-” She paused. “Well, I won’t say where they are, but it's Konpaku's kid. She’ll probably be the next one to actually show her face around here.”

Haru groaned. “You know, you’re frighteningly vague for someone who claims to see the future.”

Go just laughed. “Well, sorry about that! When we’re dealing with fate-shifting, there’s only so much fortune you can actually tell. But hey-” She winked. “Anything’s better than nothing. Now, I’ve done my part, so I’d better be off.” She started pulling herself over the windowsill.

Eiki started to approach her. “Now, you wait for a second-”

“Sorry, Eiki! Gotta jet. My trick’s only got so much juice.” She pointed at the Shrine Maiden. “Hakurei? Here’s hoping you get a recovery as swift as a shooting star, da ze!”

She slipped out of the window, and disappeared.

Epilogue: Eiki Complete
Loading Epilogue: Komachi...

Komachi hopped through a hole in the wall, cursing. A bullet whizzed by her ear - a real bullet, too. She’d really pissed them off, that much was clear.

The shinigami - now, ironically, the one running from her own inevitability - took off at a sprint into the bamboo forest. It didn’t matter what she was going towards, it mattered what she was getting away from, and that was two moon rabbits with murder in their eyes. They probably wouldn’t actually kill her, but not for lack of trying - she had a sneaking feeling she’d be better off dealing with whatever punishment Eiki came up with than the vengeance of the Inaba sisters.

And it had all been going so well. That doctor, Eirin, had approached her with a request. She’d presented a little button, explained what it did, and asked Komachi to be the one to destroy it. She was worried about the button activating haphazardly if they crushed or disassembled it, so she wanted it executed. And a shinigami with a proper understanding of the parts could cut it to ribbons in seconds, completely safely. Of course, Komachi was happy to help.

They’d called out the sisters, Reisen and Akyuu. Both of them had the glassy stares that only came from getting an earful from a certain Yama, and Komachi couldn’t help but sympathize - she’d gotten quite a talking-to this morning herself (and was probably due for another, even worse one, but one disaster at a time).

First, Eirin had to apologize for something else. It concerned a different piece of tech, a small fake distress beacon (Komachi had no frame of reference for what a real one would look like, but it had apparently convinced all of them). Supposedly the cause of the whole false moon mess.

Apparently the fake did what Eirin thought it had - which was detect two people and take them back to the moon. But not on who she thought it would. The biometric signatures it was set to detect were ‘anyone from Gene-Warren IN-8’. Both rabbits looked shocked at that, so presumably that was them.

Komachi had to ask, and gotten the gist that they were… essentially a designer breed? She hadn’t fully understood the explanation. But the point was that it was set up for Akyuu and Reisen to both touch it, and for them to be brought back to the moon, right up to the doorstep of a different pair of sisters, their former masters. Eirin suggested that Akyuu’s coincidental crash-landing right next to her sister was not an accident in its placement, but rather a (partial) success - that her drop-pod had been calibrated to land near Reisen, somehow.

She apologized for the disaster the night had turned out to be, and Akyuu had apologized for her own part in it - assuming that this Lady Sagume might have told her more about her intentions if she’d just asked. The mood was a bit awkward, and Komachi had been the one to salvage it - pointing out that if they hadn’t done what they had done, the Shrine Maiden would have bled out outside the Scarlet Devil Mansion, rather than be resting in Eientei. Everyone composed themselves a bit, and got onto the second piece of business.

First, Eirin had looked Akyuu in the eye, and asked her to explain what she knew about the button so far. Akyuu had obliged: It exploited something innate to vat-born moon rabbits, it served to bring them in line, Eirin’d created it before they’d gotten a sense of her personality, and everyone was very, very adamant she’d be better off not knowing what it did. To the point just telling her had been a threat, once. Eirin gave her a look, told her about what Komachi was about to do, and asked, one last time, if Akyuu wanted to know what the button did.

Of course, she said yes. Curiosity killed the chronicler, as it were. Eirin took a deep breath, and started to think through her response. There was a long, long pause.

Akyuu had asked if Lady Eirin was alright, and the doctor had stuttered. Apparently she was struggling to get her words out. It might have been guilt, it might have been worry about breaking trust, it might have been an adamant feeling of not wanting to tell her something so dangerous. It might have been a lot of things. It might have been similar reasons, or different ones entirely, that meant when Akyuu had turned to ask Reisen about it, she’d clammed up as well.

But Komachi found there was one thing that they definitely were: Annoying. And, well… she was curious herself, of course.

At length, she’d gotten irritated, and snatched up the button. She’d chided the two of them for not explaining things, saying that if she wanted to know, it’d be better for her to just know. And if they didn’t know what to say… might as well just show her.

And then she’d pushed the button.

What came out was a distinctly unpleasant series of tones. High, and tinny, and not even something resembling catchy. But tonal, like a little graph of something erratic converted into sound.

Akyuu’s eyes had glazed over, blank. Komachi already had a line in mind when she’d done it.

>Akyuu, from now on, end random sentences with ‘pyon’. And make it sound cute.

At once, Akyuu’s eyes lit up again, and she asked what happened. The other two nervously shared a glance, and Komachi hummed, disappointed.

And then Akyuu had turned to Komachi, with big, bright eyes, and asked did the button not work, pyon? …And immediately Komachi was having to stifle giggles. Akyuu belatedly caught what she’d said, and tried again. Confused pyons came out intermittently, and Komachi’s giggles turned into outright laughter.

Eirin had sighed, and with the proverbial band-aid removed, began to explain it in full. The explanation had a lot of choice words in it, the really fun kind you normally only here in psych-dramas. Like subliminal, ooh, that was a good one.

Put simply, the button - the sound it made, really, along with a psychic resonance - put a particular moon rabbit into a hypnotic state. Then, you could tell that rabbit pretty much anything, and they’d subconsciously be compelled to do it. The version Komachi had used was relatively mild - but there were more dangerous possibilities. Ones that’d compel her to see things differently than how they actually were.

Apparently it had been used to great effect to cut off rabbit rebellions in the past. One could essentially create double-agents on the spot, as long as you knew which rabbit had which code. And most of the rabbits were completely oblivious to the secret hidden in them. Eirin had created the button version as a precaution in case Akyuu had turned violent, but… believed it was unnecessary, now.

Akyuu, for her part, was equal parts disturbed and fascinated. She could see why they’d all wanted to hide it from her - anyone who could read her mind about the former could probably pull the sound itself from her head. Maybe even put her in a hypnotic state with nothing, pyon. Eirin had nodded, while throwing a glare the giggling shinigami. The doctor said that many of the most common ways to neuter its effects - like blurring out the subconscious memory of the trigger, or distorting it - just weren’t going to be available to Akyuu.

But the next best thing was available. Though it’d take some time, her sister would be able to break the hypnotic effect, and there were ways to learn how to resist it, as well. Reisen had offered a supporting hand on Akyuu’s shoulder, and promised she’d happily teach Akyuu how to resist the effects, if she wanted to. Akyuu had nodded, and for a moment, all had been well.

And then… a terrible mistake. Partially on Eirin’s part, mostly on Komachi’s. Because both had spent a long time in work environments where closely working with one’s boss was inevitable, and there was an implicit level of understanding reached at a certain point in doing so - where there was no need for words.

But just because they both had that understanding with their own coworkers, didn’t mean those understandings were the same across them.

The doctor had gestured to the shinigami, and asked if you would, Miss Onozuka? And Komachi’s fun had been had, so she was happy to end it. She threw the little button into the air, prepared her scythe, and sliced through it. And then, she’d used her power over distance - the moment there was any space between the pieces, there was thousands of kilometers between the pieces. The fragments shot out the nearby window, and probably left orbit. Komachi was pretty proud of that.

Then she’d turned to the group, looking at her in abject horror. What? What were the stares for? …The realization seemed to not quite catch her. Akyuu had mumbled something, and Komachi leaned in to hear it, still confused.

And then Akyuu had looked at her, her face bright red, and told her that she hadn’t been fixed, pyon. Komachi blinked, and then it hit her. Oh. That ‘if you would’ had either been to hand it over or to undo the first hypnotic effect. It was in fact still in place, and what could have fixed it was probably past the ozone layer.

Hence, what Komachi was doing now - running like her life depended on it, which it very well may. She ducked and weaved through the bullets and the clumps of bamboo, and came out to a small clearing. Good, that meant she could really put in the strides, and get a bit of distan-

On her third step, the ground beneath her suddenly wasn’t. Komachi fell forward, smacking her stomach against the wall of the pitfall. She bounced backwards, gasping for air… and only barely catching her own scythe from drilling out her eye.

Quickly, the two rabbits caught up, silhouetted by the afternoon sun. Two sets of furious red eyes glared down at her, assuring her dissonantly that she’d be fine. The taller one assured her that Eirin could fix up anything she’d broken in her fall. And, coincidentally, she could fix up anything they broke, as well.

Perhaps Komachi could have gotten away with only a minor beating. A few bruises, a checkup at Eientei, and all would be well. But she wouldn’t get a chance. Because then the smaller silhouette had leaned over, radiating fury, and asked Komachi one question.

And that question was simple: if she had any last words before they beat her so hard Eiki would have to get another shinigami to drag her home, pyon?

Well. At least Komachi would get her last laugh.

Epilogue: Komachi Complete
Loading Epilogue: Kaguya...

Kaguya smiled, grabbing another piece of mochi. Once again, that especially clean and crisp taste filled her, and she couldn’t help but grin smugly. “Told you two that mochi pounded by Lunar Rabbits tastes better.”

Haru picked up a piece, looking it over curiously. “...Is that really because of the rabbits? Or is it because you got some extra-special ingredients in reserve?”

“We-ell, a little from column A and a little from column B.” The princess admitted. “We do have specially treated rice, but perhaps a better word is purified - if handled by impure hands, it just becomes high-grade rice, without that sharpness to it.”

Haru turned to the two rabbits in question, who were busy pounding a second batch of mochi. The smaller of the two was turning the rice over in her hands, while the elder was handling the mallet. The two had eased into a steady rhythm for the process at this point - most likely using a psychic link to time their movements,. “I see, I see. That’s why the new recruit’s the one actually hands-on? Because she’s the purest here?” She bit into the piece she was holding, murmuring in thought.

“That and she’s not that hearty. Pounding that much mochi would tire her out really quickly.” Kaguya smiled, taking another piece. “She’s safer that way.” She picked up the plate, offering it to the third guest. “Have some, will you? It’d be rude to them not to.”

The most immediate response was a glare. “I didn’t come here for a tea party, Kaguya.” She nonetheless took a piece, pulling back a bit of her ashen hair that nearly got caught in the treat. “I came here for answers. You said you had some new insights into the Immaterial Children Incident, didn’t you?”

Kaguya made sure to chew her piece extra slowly, as if contemplating a detailed response. Eventually, she swallowed. “Oh, yes, yes.” And then immediately picked up another piece.

The third woman’s hand was around hers before the mochi reached her mouth. She could feel it heating up, until both of their hands were ablaze. “This isn’t a game, Kaguya. A life’s already been thrown into tatters by this disaster. Don’t fuck around with me.”

Kaguya just pulled her hand away from her guest’s grip, and popped the still flaming piece in her mouth. “You know, you’re a natural at grilling, Mokou. You’d make a good team with them, I think.”

Fujiwara no Mokou growled, but did her best to straighten up. “...I’m serious, Kaguya. Please, do you know anything, or did you just call me to mess with me?”

Haru nodded. “We do indeed have new intel. Eientei found a whole new source, in fact.” The Hakurei Shrine Maiden smiled at Mokou. “One that might turn the whole case on its head.”

Mokou looked at Haru, trying to read her. She knew full well that Haru wouldn’t lie about this - though it did bother Kaguya a bit she was comparatively getting so much suspicion. “Oh yeah? And who is this brand new source of intel?”

“Akyuu.”

“Bless you.”

“No, no, no…” Haru pointed at the younger of the two rabbits pounding. “Inaba Akyuu, Reisen’s little sister. She’s the new source.”

Mokou looked over at the two rabbits. “...What does some recent moon escapee know?” Mokou turned back to her. “Wait, did she find evidence the Lunar Capital were responsible for moving the Immaterial Children?!”

“Oh, better than that.” Kaguya said. “She’s one of them.” Mokou went wide-eyed. “And on top of that, she’s the Child of Miare.”

“Verified by the Yama herself.” Haru said, nodding. “The Hieda’s daughter, who came to Gensokyo by escaping the moon.”

Mokou nodded. “That’s a breakthrough in and of itself! So, does that mean the others were turned into Lunar Rabbits too?” She turned. “If we can find them, then-”

“She wasn’t done, you know.” Kaguya said, cutting off Mokou with a needling tone. “There’s another reason she’s important. As the Hieda… she has perfect memory. Memory unaffected by alterations to history.”

Mokou’s furrowed her brow. “So… what does that mean?”

Kaguya sighed, putting up her hands. “I swear, Mokou, you’re the dullest detective in the world.”

“What it means is that she remembers history from before. From when all the Immaterial Children grew up together, as humans.” Haru smiled at Mokou. “And she even remembers why the Immaterial Children Incident happened.” She saw Akyuu look over, nervously.

Mokou was on her feet in seconds. “You mean-” She grinned. “You mean she can clear Keine’s name?!”

“We-ell…” Kaguya hummed, putting her feet dramatically. “Maybe, maybe not.”

The momentary brightness dimmed to a dull, angry flame. “What does that mean, princess? If she can remember, surely she didn’t say Keine did it, did she?”

Kaguya looked up at Mokou, grinning impishly. “That’s exactly what she said, in fact.”

Mokou glared, smoke starting to billow out. “...No. Keine would never. Not. Ever.”

The exiled princess chuckled. “Oh, but she showed us her memories herself. In fact, not only did they say that Keine did it, but that you were an accomplice as well. Well, Mokou, do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Mokou leapt to her feet. “Yeah, that all of that is a load of bullshit! I’d never do something like that!” She glared over at the two rabbits, who had stopped their pounding to move into a panicked, defensive position. “Let me at her, I want to have a little discussion with this Akyuu.”

“Now hold on a second there.” Kaguya stood up. “Akyuu is the newest resident of Eientei. I will not have you assaulting one of my pets just because you don’t like what you hear. If you want to have a go at her, you’ll have to go through me, first.”

That… brought a pause. Mokou turned to her, confused.

“Eh? Don’t the rabbits normally guard you, not the other way around?”

Nonononono she was so close- Kaguya did her best to mask her expression. “Well, she’s a very important rabbit, after all. And Haru asked me to make sure she’s safe.”

“Haru-” Ah, earth it, that was a mistake. Mokou turned her attention to the Shrine Maiden in question, who was focusing her attentions on the intricacies of the powdering on her mochi. “...Right. Haru? You’ve been one of Keine’s biggest defenders. Is all this about Keine doing it all on purpose really true?”

Now it was Haru’s turn under the microscope, and disappointingly, she faltered too. “U-um. She hasn’t lied, but… there’s missing context really. Stuff that… kinda flips the whole situation around.” She couldn’t meet Kaguya’s pleading gaze.

Mokou quickly put two and two together. “You mean… there was a reason she had to do it?” She turned to Kaguya, grumpily. “...You were just trying to pick a fight, weren’t you?”

Kaguya did her best to give a mischievous chuckle, even as she felt her opportunity slipping. “Ah, just a bit of your classic style of entertainment, that’s all.” …It was really to make sure she was burnt down before she saw the truth, so she didn’t get overexcited and do something reckless to hurt Akyuu, or go one a rampage into the human village. That was what Kaguya had been aiming to prevent, and that she was frustrated, definitely. …And she’d flay any rabbit dumb enough to suggest something like her being lonely instead.

At length, Haru looked up. “...I know you want to find Keine. But while this evidence doesn’t give us any answers on where she is, it changes the case entirely. It’s something we can give her when we do find her. A lifeline to pull her own heart back together.” The Shrine Maiden smiled. “And it was Kaguya who was insistent on you being one of the first to hear it directly.”

After a moment, the rabbit starring in the debate leaned around the door she’d half-hidden behind. “...And, um. Miss Mokou? Kaguya’s been hoping the story’s true as much as anyone. And I think she's been lommph-” Her sister had silenced her quickly from behind, when she’d seen Kaguya’s glare at the two of them.

Mokou sighed. “So that’s the truth of it, eh…” She scratched her head. Thinking.

Eventually, she let out a sigh. “...Akyuu, right? You better get back to pounding that mochi, bunny.”

Akyuu looked at her, confused. The immortal gave a slow grin, as she set her hands aflame. “Cos I’m gonna be grilling you for every detail after I’m done putting the fussy little princess to bed.”

Kaguya stood up, feeling more exposed than she’d like to be… but it had gotten there in the end. “Well then, Mokou. Shall we blow off some steam?”

The phoenix-girl grinned. “I’m only giving you one round, then it’s back to business. So you better make it one to remember, alright?”

The princess grinned back, stepping outside. “Oh, I’m sure it will be. While you’ve been chasing your tail, I’ve been coming up with very… memorable ideas. I think you’ll enjoy them.”

She smiled, reaching into her pocket… and pulled out a Spell Card. The one that would be oh-so perfect to get under Mokou’s skin.

“Divine Treasure ‘Jeweled Branch of Hourai -Dreamlike Paradise-’!”

Epilogue: Kaguya Complete
Loading Epilogue: Haru...

“A jidiao in the Animal Realm?” Haru nodded at the question, pouring another cup of tea for the speaker. The kitsune lifted the proffered cup, rubbing her chin with her other hand. “...Are you serious…?”

The shrine maiden met her gaze evenly. “I am. According to Konpaku Youki himself, in fact.” She took a sip of her own tea. “The yin-yang orbs have chosen a young Jidiao for their new master.”

Yakumo Ran stuttered. “But… even we haven’t gotten in contact with Youki yet. He hasn’t even left the Animal Realm, has he?”

“He hasn’t. But one Miss Kutaka has gotten into contact with him, and brought the news back to Eiki. And eventually, it came through to me.”

The second visitor raised an eyebrow. “...So the rumors are true, then?” Tamatsukuri Misumaru took another sip of her own cup. “Two of the Immaterial Children have been found?”

“Yep!” Aunn, sitting opposite her sculptor, smiled. “Reimu makes two! But…” The komainu looked down. “...Hearing that she’s a jidiao… would that mean…?”

The kitsune was deep in thought. “...She’s Yachie’s daughter…? That’s…” She took a long, slow breath, trying to steady her thoughts. “That has implications.”

Misumaru glanced around the room. “Forgive me, I’m not familiar with the Animal Realm’s VIPs. Can someone catch me up?”

Haru spoke up. “She’s the sneakiest of the big animal realm gang leaders. A schemer through and through, and a master manipulator in what is often otherwise a very straightforward war. Though… that does mean she’s often not ready for anyone to actually scheme against her.”

Ran smiled. “Oh, did Yukari give you some of my briefings? That’s a good way to put it. She’s often a bit flat-footed whenever someone else cunning enters the board. We’ll have to make sure to keep the amount of information that filters back to her to a minimum. I’m assuming you called me to act as liaison?”

Haru looked at the kitsune. “Partially, yes. Though officially acting on behalf of the sages, if possible.” She took a moment to think. “And of course, we’ll need some illusion magic. Strong Illusion magic, to hide her jidiao traits. Fortunately, it seems she’s caused a stir that Yachie has used to lead people to believe… something along the lines of her being a human that can invoke dragons.”

The kitsune hummed. “So it’s fine if it has to break in intense combat, as long as it can be easily reapplied. Alright, I’ll see what I can do.” The kitsune nodded. “Though… I will say that we will negotiate to have some sort of tracking device on the disguise tool. I’m not thrilled by the idea of giving Yachie’s daughter a perfect disguise.”

Aunn looked at the kitsune reproachfully. “As long as the monitoring method is well-documented in the shrine’s records, I’m sure my mistress would agree that is prudent.” The komainu’s eyes narrowed. “Of course, that’s assuming you don’t put listening devices in any of the other Hakurei tools.”

The two shikigami stared each other down, for a few moments. Misumaru coughed, looking at Haru. “Did you call me to make some new extermination gear for her?”

The shrine maiden held a hand up. “Well, I’m not sure how necessary that is? Apparently she can use the yin-yang orbs already, and she’s also had some miko equipment made for her. Though I’m sure there’s improvements you can make.” She leaned in. “In truth, there’s a whole different point I wanted to discuss. The reason why the Immaterial Children Incident occurred.”

She recounted the events, as she’d had them described to her by Akyuu. The two guests listened to her closely, only interrupting to ask a few questions.

Once she’d finished speaking, Ran went deep into thought, which Haru assumed meant she was trying to calculate something. Misumaru was doing her own analysis, though it appeared to be of Haru herself. “...That’s a heavy story to tell, Haru. One that strains credibility.”

Haru shook her head, firmly. “On the contrary - it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Misumaru leaned in. “Is it? Are you believing it because it’s actually a logical conclusion, or because it gives the happy answers you’ve wanted?”

Aunn thumped the table. “It’s not some crackpot theory!” She glared daggers at Misumaru. “Akyuu’s actions… deviated further from predictions than I expected, but one look at her Spell Cards and it was absolutely the Child of Miare. And Lady Eiki verified it too!”

Misumaru cocked an eyebrow. “Spell Cards…? You’ve started actually distributing those rules? I thought you were keeping that secret until the Heir was found…” Her eyes widened in understanding. “Ah. You were testing this Akyuu?”

Aunn nodded. “It was a hunch. If she knew what spell cards were, but didn’t provide the sorts of spell cards I expected, it was possible she was a lunarian spy. But not only did she know what spell cards were, her spell card practically screamed she was the Child of Miare. And, of course, it was proven later that night even more clearly.”

The crafter goddess sighed. “And if I ask about how her spell card proved her, you’re just going to give the same answer you always do, won’t you Aunn?” She rubbed her forehead. “You and your mistress…”

Ran raised a finger. “On that point, we have the Yama herself to trust. I assume that Akyuu’s story has been checked by her, as well. After all, anything that can take measure of one’s deceitful choices is a lie detector by default.”

Haru smiled. “And… as much as I appreciate your concern, Lady Tamatsukuri… this is genuinely the only story that makes sense. The targets chosen, and why. The outlier in the netherworld. Why Keine was the one burdened.”

Misumaru looked down. “...Keine… If this story is true…” She sighed. “She’d still have no idea, would she?”

Haru shook her head. “We need to track her down. She’s out there somewhere, I know - maybe trying to control her powers, maybe trying to track down the Immaterial Children herself. Worse, if she tries to take matters into her own hands and fix things herself… She could undo the one good spot of this whole affair. The bright spot she’s given us.”

Ran looked over at Haru, once again looking contemplative. “...Haru. Can I ask you a question? …Why have you always been so adamant about defending Keine?”

The goddess took a glance at Ran, thinking. “...Yes, I must admit, I’ve long been curious too. Your own daughter was one of the Immaterial Children, wasn’t she? And yet, you always stood by Keine, even when it was taken as fact.” She hummed. “I held your crying shoulder when you were faced with the question… I’m just surprised I never had to hold back your fist when you were faced with the first answer.”

Haru took a deep breath. “There was absolutely no way Keine would ever do that intentionally. And even when she did make mistakes with her powers… it never happened that way.” The Shrine Maiden chuckled, pointing to the muddy tracks she’d been following. “I mean, even most youkai don’t leave hoofprints, just regular footprints. Or shoeprints, I suppose.”

“Hoof-?!” The horned girl stuttered, looking down. She was probably about Haru’s own age, if she had to guess. “N-no! I-I meant to erase them, why…?”

Haru shrugged. “Well, I’m glad they’re just fake prints, anyways.” She stepped closer, and the girl shrank back. “Come on, no need to prolong this, kid.”

The girl did her best to strike an intimidating pose. “S-stay back, Miss Ha-I mean, human! I am Keine, a powerful youkai! One more step, and I’ll smash you flat!”

Haru paused mid-step. “...And what kind of youkai are you supposed to be? A were-something obviously if you’re doing this tonight, but a were-what?” There was a long, long, awkward silence, as the girl in front of Haru wracked her brain for an answer. “...Didn’t put much thought into this, did you?” She resumed walking.

Keine did her best to get into a fighting stance. Haru had seen better from some fairies. “I-I know why you’re here. You’re here to kill me, aren’t you?!” She jammed a finger at the miko, ruining the positioning of the one arm somewhat actually ready to fight. “W-well, I’m not just some kid anymore! I’m a youkai now! I-I’m not scared of you!” She took a step back, yelping at the sound of a kicked rock in the process.

The young shrine maiden sighed. “You’re talking about me having to kill any human who becomes a youkai, right? …Keine, was it? Look, I’m just trying to do my job. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, alright?”

“You… You…” The self-proclaimed youkai’s face was a mixture of rage and fear. “I-I’m not some job for you to fix up! H-how many times have you done this?!”

“What, this general sorta task? ‘Bout once a fortnight since I started this.” Keine’s face blanched. “Village kids always seem to run off and get themselves into some sort of trouble. Now, come on, let’s put an end to this, alright?”

Keine tripped over her own tail, and fell back. She caught herself against a tree, quivering. Haru slowly pulled out her gohei, raising it above her head, and the girl whimpered, screwing her eyes shut.

Haru slammed the gohei down, stabbing it into the ground. Keine blinked, wondering how she was still alive, giving Haru the perfect chance to close in… and hug her.

“...It’s okay, Keine. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to bring you home.”

“U-uh?” Keine looked at her, confused. “Y-you’re not going to k-k-k-”

“Kill you? Nah, like I said, I bring villagers back home all the time. Hakurei-brand executions are only for people who actually become youkai. You’re still a human.”

The girl shook her head, weakly. “N-no, I’m not… I-I’m a youkai. C-can’t you see it?”

“What, the horns and tail? Pssshhh, they’ll be gone by the morning, I’m sure.”

“B-but-”

Haru gently stroked the girl’s head. “...Keine. That law is meant to prevent people from willingly turning themselves into monsters. But you’re not some evil sorcerer sacrificing their humanity for power, or some cannibal who’s becoming as horrific as their diet.” She smiled. “You’re just a girl who’s having a very, very bad night.”

Keine began to sob, weakly at first, before devolving into full on bawling. Haru held the poor girl close, murmuring into her ear, and gently began to walk her back - to the Shrine for now. It was easier to get to from here, and would keep her safely from the public eye until the morning. Haru smiled, rubbing a tear from her eye.

“Keine… when she makes mistakes with her power, it’s because she’s trying to do one thing while in the state that does the opposite. It never goes off when she doesn’t intend it to - it only did the opposite of what she’d wanted.”

Ran hummed. “I see… So the idea of it going off in such a specific way made no sense - the most likely cause for her doing it accidentally would be her trying to do something positive for the families that got reversed. But she had no memory of even that.”

Misumaru tilted her head. “...But still… That’s surprisingly detached reasoning…” Haru resisted the urge to sigh.

“Lady Tamatsukuri… I’m not saying it was a wise choice.” Haru gave a gentle smile. “Perhaps it was simply madness only proven right in the end, but… I always believed in Keine. I had to - if I started second-guessing myself on matters like that, I’d be paralyzed by indecision.”

She looked up. “I won’t be able to chase her myself, not yet - I’ve got a long-lost daughter to welcome home, and I’ll have to do anything I can to help clean up this awful, awful mess I’ve left her. …But I’m sure, in my heart of hearts, that Keine’s still out there, trying to do whatever she can to fix ‘her mistakes’. Maybe the story will get to her, or maybe she’ll just hear they’re making their own way back.”

The Shrine Maiden chuckled. “...Or maybe someone will find her first. The Immaterial Children so far have had excellent luck at saving and bringing back important people, no matter how perilous the situation.” She smiled. “...Perhaps one of them will bring my closest friend home.”

Epilogue: Haru Complete
Loading Epilogue: Eirin...

Eirin looked out the window at the working rabbits. Now that the rubble had been cleared, pieces of electronic equipment were being installed under makeshift canopies. She was pretty sure most of the rabbits had no idea what they were doing, but as long as the two moon rabbits kept a close eye on the others, it’d be resolved soon enough.

Eiki followed her gaze, sipping at a cup of tea. “If you want, I can keep an eye on them too for a bit. ...What is that contraption, anyways?”

The Brains of the Moon turned to her. “We call it the Psydar. It’s a psychic imaging device that allows us to see where people are. Normally, we use it to keep track of potential threats but… evidently, the system has limitations.”

Haru leaned forward. “It can see where people are? …Can we use it to find the other Immaterial Children?”

Eirin looked over at it. “Not in its previous state. Having that sort of accuracy has been something I’ve wanted to try for a while, but it’s been lacking key parts of the system. We’d need two things: a psychic with a very clear mental image of the target, and to modify it from the default design to be able to go narrow-band, and single out targets at a longer distance.”

She smiled, putting her teacup down. “Fortunately, as luck would have it, we have managed to come across a moon rabbit with perfect memory, and a requirement to rebuild the psydar from the ground up. So… we’re modifying it as necessary.”

Eiki looked over at the machine, inspecting it. “...Will it hurt Akyuu?”

“It will give her a massive headache, but no permanent damage. And our suspicion is only one person may be easily called by it, so we don’t expect her to even have a need to overuse it.” Eirin gave a reassuring smile to the judge. “I promise, she’ll be fine. If anything, I’m worried about her exceeding the psychic amplitude if she gets excited. It’d both distort the message into illegibility, and leave her friend’s head ringing.”

Haru also gave the judge a pat on her shoulder. “What about the other two? Is she going forward with that book plan?”

Eirin nodded. “Yes. According to Akyuu, the Immaterial Magician and Bookkeeper are bibliophiles, so distributing some novels may be just what’s needed to get the word to them.”

Haru continued her pat into a rub. “So don’t worry too much about Akyuu, okay? She’ll make it through this.”

The judge, at length, let out a sigh. “I… just make sure to monitor her closely as possible, Lady Eirin.” She sat up, looking over at the doctor. “Is that what you called us here to discuss?”

The doctor shook her head. “...No, it’s not. I’d prefer it if this discussion doesn’t leave this room.” The other two women shared a glance, but nodded. “It concerns the Re/Awakening phenomenon.”

Eiki’s expression hardened. “If you’re asking for more details about the mechanics of it, I will not be telling you more. Not even someone immortal, who could never carry their memories over to a future life, should know how to access such a state.”

Eirin nodded. “Of course, Lady Eiki. I’m sure among the various people you know, I’m one who you feel needs to be kept especially far from the truth.” As the judge nodded, Eirin stood up. “And that… is exactly the problem.”

“For some context, Tewi Inaba. I trust you’ve both met her?” A nod from Haru, and a glower and shake of the head from Eiki. Tewi must have been avoiding her. “She was the most skeptical of Akyuu from the start, especially when she heard Akyuu’s story. The biggest reason for her doubts was a simple question: why the past selves of us immortals had chosen to reincarnate the Immaterial Children as youkai.”

Eirin started to pace around the room. “When the Re/Awakening occurred, she was satisfied. That must have been the reason we chose to do it, she said. And, for a while I was satisfied too… until I noticed the paradox in my thinking.”

Haru looked up. “After all, to know that the kids could Re/Awaken… you’d have to know what that is.” Eirin nodded, and both of them turned to Eiki. “Which raises the question… would you have told her, Eiki?”

The judge took a long, deep breath. Eirin could feel her assessing the question, looking deep inside herself, trying to consider all variables and find an answer. “...Perhaps I could have come to the conclusion that such power was necessary… but I doubt I would have thought of such an abstract solution in as short of a time as a week.”

Eirin nodded. “Inversely, with the given resources of someone who could rewrite history, and even cursory knowledge of the Re/Awakening phenomenon, I could imagine myself doing so. But… the problem is that there is no reason - no path - for me to have learned about the Re/Awakening by myself.” She leaned forward. “So… Tewi's theory is still missing a link. Something else that would give us the knowledge of Re/Awakening. Of course, that assumes our original assumption is correct, but… apparently young Reimu has experienced something similar, and lacking any knowledge of other reasons… it seems the most likely discrepancy to be addressed.”

Eiki rubbed her chin. “So, we’re looking for some path for a Hourai Immortal doctor to learn about secrets related to the inner mechanics of reincarnation, while at the same time not alerting the presiding Hakurei Shrine Maiden or the Child of Miare, at the very least.” The judge sighed. “That is… you’d need someone both good at unearthing and keeping secrets… which, to be fair, Gensokyo is not short of. But who would even consider such a plan? Who could fill such a gap?”

There was a long, slow sigh, followed by a short litany of curses. Eirin and Eiki looked over at the source, the shrine maiden now massaging her forehead. “God damn it. It’s her, isn’t it? She’d explain all of this nonsense.”

Eirin tilted her head. “I’m not sure a shrine maiden should be naming the gods in such a way, but… you have someone in mind?”

Haru let out a groan. “Un-fortunately, yes, I do. Someone who is exactly the right mix of inquisitive and intruding. Someone who wouldn’t think twice of stealing the secrets of the Yama themselves, and passing the answers on as it suits them. Someone insane enough to come up with this plan in minutes, where it took everyone else days, and yet still keep it to herself. And someone tenacious enough to survive right up to the very end, along with all of you immortals.”

Eirin got a sinking feeling, as Eiki spoke up. “I have a certain sense you may have a very plausible candidate in mind there. …And as much as it galls me to consider her learning the deepest secrets of Higan, if anyone could, it’d be her.”

The doctor let out a tired sigh. “...Yes. I think I’m on the same page as you two as well. We dealt with her on the moon as well, and… let us face the facts. If anyone else could do it better than her, she wouldn’t suffer for them to live.”

She looked up at the ceiling, commiserating with the other two in the room at the thought of the likeliest suspect. “...Yakumo Yukari. She must have known about Re/Awakening.”

Eiki lifted up her cup, slowly. After a moment’s hesitation, she downed the steaming cup whole.

“Hahhh! …Yukari. To think her tendrils could extend that deep.” The judge began to rub her temples. “That woman has caused me no small amount of headaches already… I shudder to think of her getting even more knowledge.”

Haru straightened up. “Just the thought of Yukari having access to secrets at the same level of power as Re/Awakening is giving me a headache. Or maybe it was Matara, who found out and told Yukari. They’re both equally intrusive.”

The doctor considered the thought of there being not one, but two Yukaris. The cup in her hands began to tremble. “...As much as nobody likes the idea… it does seem to have merit. Horrifying, horrifying merit.”

Eiki straightened up, looking over at them. “But with that said… perhaps it’s a security leak that can be yet plugged. When I checked our records, there was no sign they’d been disturbed since we’d last accessed them. Yukari’s intrusion may be yet to occur.”

Haru nodded. “If that woman is one thing, it’s lazy. It’s quite possible she went on one last, desperate blitz to keep the secret, at the very end of time.” The shrine maiden thought back. “...When she came to me, she was asking what Re/Awakening was. Which would suggest it was her first time hearing that term being said.”

Eirin looked between the two of them. “... And I’ve gotten some reports of her shikigami making enquiries with the rabbits here. Of course, few know anything substantial, and even fewer would be willing to risk upsetting us or Tewi. Perhaps we can work on the assumption that her knowledge has not yet been gleaned.”

Eiki stood up. “If that’s the case… perhaps I need to be off. We should do a review of our storage systems, and see if there’s any parts that don’t fully account for the hags claws. If we find something, then… At least we know the last piece of this puzzle.”

As she started to turn to leave, Haru raised a hand. “Wait. Don’t go too soon, Lady Eiki.” She took a look at the two of them. “...What if you don’t find a flaw?”

Eirin tilted her head. “...Is that not the most likely solution?”

Haru looked pensive. “It is, but… something bugs me about it. Another possibility. And my intuition’s usually pretty good at spotting these sorts of things.”

The shrine maiden put her palms together, pointing her closed hands skyward. “...What if she found out… organically? What if she came across a Re/Awakening in the proverbial field? Then, she wouldn’t know what the name was, but she would know the effect.”

The other two shared a glance. Eiki stuttered. “I… find that… highly unlikely. The weight of a reincarnator’s soul isn’t something that can be hidden. Their mere existence disturbs fate wherever they go. One who has the ability to Re/Awaken reshapes the world around them in their image, whether they like it or not.”

Eirin’s face soured. “...But the Sages would fit that description, wouldn’t they? Particularly… Yukari herself.”

There was a moment of silence. One that dragged on for far too long.

It was finally broken when Haru sat up.

“Well, maybe that’s just me overthinking another possibility. After all, it’s hard to even imagine a Yukari that’s different enough to provoke a Re/Awakening.”

The other two gave uncertain nods. Eirin spoke next. “...Quite. After all, one of the limitations that past world’s Keine cited was being unable to undo history past her own affliction, and Yukari exceeds Keine’s age by more than one order of magnitude. If Yukari were to access such a state, she’d have to do it in an entirely different way. And it could be a viable candidate who Re/Awoke some other way just hasn’t emerged yet.”

The yama let out a long sigh. “Still… sounds like I’ll have my work cut out for me.” Eiki started to leave again, this time being followed by the shrine maiden. “Let me know if any other… less horrifying scenarios occur to you, will you?”

Eirin nodded. “Of course, Lady Eiki. If we find anything out… you will be the first to know.”

As the two other ladies made their way out, Eirin stood up, turning to look out at the working rabbits.

“...Five Re/Awakeners. And perhaps Yukari at their helm.” The exile doctor muttered. She hoped they could save the world from whatever doomed it. She hoped they could save themselves from the gap youkai’s clutches.

But, most of all, and perhaps for the first time in a long, long while… Eirin truly, utterly hoped she was wrong.

Epilogue: Eirin Complete
Loading Epilogue: Remilia

Remilia Scarlet sipped at her tea, doing her best to restrain her impatience. It still showed, nonetheless, in her quivering wings.

The librarian she was waiting on side-eyed her. “Remy, I’m not going to be able to go faster just because you’re hovering over me. Don’t you have anything else to do?”

Remilia sighed, stretching. …Not really, honestly, but Patche didn’t have to be so cold about it. “Everyone’s mostly set up by now, so we’re able to start pursuing our own interests. And what I want to pursue is this gargoyle plan.”

Patchouli Knowledge rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m unlikely to get a concrete answer to this in the next five minutes, so perhaps your time is better served by doing anything else. Maybe reading some of these books yourself?”

Remilia nodded, putting down her teacup. “Well, maybe if you have an index or something I can read to help with looking, then?” Patchouli nodded, snapping her fingers, and her assistant scurried off. “After all, I’ve just about finished this cup, anyways.”

The door to the library swung open. Sakuya Izayoi stepped out, carrying a fresh teapot. “Would either of you ladies like a fresh cup, or something else?”

The mistress of the Scarlet Devil Mansion smiled, waving her maid over. “Impeccable timing as always, Sack-uh- Sakuya.” The librarian silently stifled a chuckle. The maid didn’t visibly react to the faux pas, just quietly bringing over the teapot, and beginning to pour it. “Your work is always appreciated.”

Patche’s familiar came back, with a few reference books. Remilia made a point of placing the teacup far away from the books, to pick one up and start reading it. Sakuya looked over the book, examining its cover.

“...You two are researching Shikigami?”

Patchouli nodded. “Mmmm. Hakurei’s Hound has given Remilia an idea.”

Remilia smiled. “It’s not all that uncommon to give children pets to teach them responsibility, is it? …But the problem is that we need a pet that will last as long as possible. At least long enough to get properly attached.” The mistress of the Scarlet Devil Mansion drummed her fingers along the edges of the book. “Any normal animal might run away, but a shikigami can be bound to follow certain commands. And where a normal animal might be in mortal peril, A stone body can be rebuilt and repaired with relative ease. So, if we create some familiars out of stone - our gargoyles, for example… They may make perfect companions for you-know-who.”

Sakuya smiled. “That sounds rather promising, actually. Any luck so far?”

Patchouli sighed, rubbing her head. “I wish I could say there was. The problem is finding some level of binding that will last even if the body is destroyed. That is proving… rather challenging.”

Remilia looked up, rubbing her chin. “I wonder how the Hakurei did it? I asked her, but she was… surprisingly vague about it.”

The maid shrugged. “Perhaps she was worried that you’d derive some weakness from it?” Remilia wondered about that. That… wasn’t the impression she’d gotten. The maid bowed. “Perhaps I should ask the original sculptor?”

Patchouli raised an eyebrow. “...Original sculptor?”

Remilia nodded, turning to Patchouli. “A woman named Misumaru Tamatsukuri. Makes a lot of Magatama.”

The magician’s eyes widened. “Magatama?! Oh, of course! That’s brilliant! We’re looking in entirely the wrong section then!” She stood up a bit too quick, starting to cough. Sakuya was over there in an instant, helping to settle her heart.

Remilia was next to her only a second later. “Slow down, Patche. What’s so brilliant about magatama?”

The magician took a few more coughs, and was gently pushed back into her seat. “Magatama… they have the ability to copy and store parts of souls. It’s possible one could embed a magatama into the rock of a statue, and act as a sort of physical anchor for the soul to grow from. A crystalline magatama heart. That’d at least shorten the turnover rate for creating a statuesque servant, possibly even to under a century unassisted.”

She grinned, flipping the book she already had to another page. “And that’s not all. A magatama heart would work as an excellent medium for storing a shikigami’s programming. It could be carved right into the magatama itself, even.” She tapped on an image of a magatama. “I discarded that idea earlier on, because it’d be even easier to rip off than talismans, but… if it’s embedded in its heart, that might very well be a quick path forward.”

Remilia grinned, leaning over her friend. “Oooooh, I see! So we can make a good magatama, load it up with shikigami programming, then stick it in one of our gargoyles?”

Patchouli faltered. “I’m… not so sure on that second part. Putting a magatama in after the fact would likely conflict with whatever soul is already growing in there… You’d have to create a new statue for it.”

Sakuya paused, standing up. “...What about embedding the programming on whatever soul is already in there? Would that be possible?”

“Mmmm…” Patchouli muttered under her breath, a free hand making notes. “...That’d only work if it crystallized into a fairly solid and neat form, and assuming they already have a magatama in them, it’d be… impractical. Most likely, you’d have to rip the magatama out of the statue’s chest - and even among artificial creations, there’s not many that can survive having their hearts ripped out. The even less likely alternative is pushing through the stone body to program it with pure spiritual power. To the point that you’d be much better off just making the shikigami from basically anything else, unless you were some kind of savant and that was your only option for a shikigami.”

The maid rubbed her chin. “How mysterious, then… because I got the impression that the Hound spent at least some time as a statue before coming to life. Perhaps there’s something we’re missing?”

Remilia shrugged. “We don’t need to figure out how they did it. We just need to figure out how we can do it.” She smiled. “And does that give you some plans, Patche?”

The magician adjusted her glasses. “It gives us a good avenue. I’ll keep looking into it, and let you know what I find. Now, I’ll have to be the one perusing the reference material, so… can I ask you to leave it with me?” Remilia grinned, hopping up.

“Great! I’ll stop bothering you, then.” She started to think. “Hmmm… what to do, what to do…”

“...My lady?” Remilia turned to her maid. “Were you not planning to cause some sort of… incident?”

The mood instantly soured. Remilia sighed, leaning down. “...Yeah…”

“...And what is happening with that plan? I was thinking perhaps that incident might attract certain… guests to the mansion. Like a certain purple-haired rabbit.” The maid idly pulled out a knife, starting to turn it around in her hands.

“No attacking that Akyuu, Sakuya.” Remilia scolded. “And… the Scarlet Mist is on hold for now. At… at least until the new Shrine Maiden is in place.”

Patchouli smirked. “Worried about breaking Gensokyo again, Remy?”

“It was an accident!” The vampire protested, trying her best to suppress her voice from becoming a whine. “I didn’t know she was gonna crack the world with her!”

“I’m just kidding.” The magician controlled her chuckling, so it wouldn’t break into coughing again. “But… if not in midsummer, when are you gonna do it?”

Remilia hummed, thinking back. She’d wanted to do it because it was both an appropriately fateful moment, and normally a milestone for those who dwelled in the light. She could just kick it back to next year, but… waiting for a whole year to reveal her master plan? It just didn’t feel right.

“...Mmmm. I’m still thinking.” The vampire shrugged. “I don’t want it overshadowed by another incident, you know?”

Sakuya shrugged. “Well, we can give it a couple of months, and let the Shattered Sky Incident fade from memory a bit. We should be all clear by winter, most likely.”

Remilia shook her head. “Winter’s no good. It’s so dark out, I can often go out in the day anyways. The mist is meant to help with that, after all…”

Suddenly, she stood up. The moment she’d thought of it, something in her had twitched. She knew - she just knew - that the time she was thinking of would be the perfect time for an incident.

“I’ve got it.” She smirked. “Rather than unleashing it in the depths of winter… we’ll unleash it in the thaw.”

Patchouli looked at her. “You mean… right after winter?”

Remilia looked back, beaming. “It’s perfect! The humans and youkai alike will be emerging from their wintry slumber, starting to look forward to warm glow of the spring sun. Then, and only then, will the Scarlet Mist fall upon the world, consigning them to the gloom once more!” She spread her wings out for effect, cackling.

Sakuya bowed. “If such is your wish, my Lady.”

Remilia grinned. “Yes… I can see it so clearly now. When the spring snow starts to fade… that will be the perfect, uninterrupted time… for the Scarlet Mist Incident!”

Patchouli side-eyed her. “...Are you sure? What if someone else decides to start an incident at the start of spring?”

Remilia scoffed. “Oh, come on Patchy. What are the chances of that? It’s not like there’s anyone else who’s gonna be looking for trouble at the start of spring.”

The magician shrugged. “If you say so…”

The vampire grinned, picking up her tea and starting to walk out with Sakuya. Already, there were plans aglow in her mind.

And this time… this time, she’d get her glorious moment.

After all, fate had already been overturned once. What was the chances it’d happen again?

Epilogue: Remilia Complete.
Loading Epilogue: ???

>>2905

Personally, I think it's funnier to see just how far back I can justify them delaying the Scarlet Mist Incident.

Tucked in the back of the Moriya Shrine, a girl in a white robe sat, bound. She struggled, again, to get out of the bindings, but to no avail.

Where the hell was her backup?! Shouldn’t she be here by now? Go squirmed, a dull ache through her muscles. She’d been fed by that onbashira-swinging lunatic last night, and this morning, but otherwise she’d been left essentially unattended. Which had meant a sleepless night waiting for a robot girl that apparently wasn’t coming.

She kicked her feet, trying to wiggle away again. Still no luck. She sighed, leaning back against the wall, groaning.

“...Well well well. What a sorry state to be in, hmm?” Go straightened up, looking around for the source of the voice. It wasn’t one she’d heard before. “Oh, you won’t see me. Not yet, at least.”

“...Wonderful. Who are you? Are you some new part of the Moriya Shrine?” Go stiffened up, trying to listen for where exactly the voice was coming from.

“If I told you I was someone who came from the door in your back, would that help? Or perhaps if I said I was an animal-loving hermit, could you guess from that?”

Go didn’t have a damn clue what they were talking about. “...I’m guessing those would be false leads.”

“A correct answer - and an informative one. So there is a limit on your precognition - if it can be referred to as such.” The speaker hummed. “Now, a few questions of my own; who are you? What is your purpose in coming here? And how much of Suwako’s berserk state were you responsible for?”

“...” Go wasn’t sure how to respond. “Am I going to get points for honesty, here?”

“Let me describe it to you this way. I’m aware that Lady Moriya is considering your punishment right now. She seems torn between punishing you for leading her on, and rewarding you for giving her the strongest lead she’s had on her last heiress in years. Seems to be leaning towards a curse that is only a punishment if you don’t share her tastes. But I personally think you’d rather get a shortcut out, hmm?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Her tastes can’t be that bad, can they?”

“Well… that depends.” Go could practically hear the smirk on the speaker’s lips. “Last I heard, she was talking about the wonders of frog’s tongues.”

There was a pause. A long, pregnant pause, where Go was left alone with her thoughts.

Alone, and hopelessly outmatched.

At length, the mysterious speaker sighed. “Well, if you’re not gonna tell me anything… I guess I’ll just have to seek answers elsewh-”

“Chiyuri!” She yelled out. “My name is Kitashirakawa Chiyuri. I-I’m an assistant professor in the outside world. A-and we’re here to help with the Pyres, I swear.”

“Is that so…?” The voice hummed. “So how much do you know about us?”

“U-uuhh, not much, really. We’re more focused on the Immaterial Children - the five who reincarnated - up to this point, and the people associated with them.”

“Five?”

“Y-yes five, obviously five! Is that some kind of test?” Chiyuri rolled her eyes. “Reimu, Marisa, Youmu, Akyuu, and Kosuzu!”

“...I see. So the term ‘Paradox Pair’ means nothing to you?”

“...Sounds like some cringe my boss’d cook up. Wait, you don’t mean me and Ichi, do you?”

Her mysterious conversation partner chuckled. “It’s a term that’s been going around recently. Well! You at least seem to be being honest about your own understanding, so how about we talk a little more directly?”

Chiyuri stared. A small slit in… in nothing formed in front of her, widening into a hole in the open air. Within, Chiyuri could see glowing eyes, staring at her, and shivered.

From the gap in nothing, a woman ascended. She was, at least in immediate appearance, human, with long, blonde hair, and purple eyes. She wore white clothes, and a purple tabard, along with a cap of some kind Chiyuri couldn’t name.

She could name the figure, though. And it was one of the ones she wasn’t supposed to tell things to. She blanched, as the gap youkai leaned closer. “Chiyuri, huh? Well… It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chiyuri. My name is Yakumo Yukari.”

“...It’s a pleasure.” Chiyuri managed to croak out. That… reminded her of what was at stake, though, so she did her best to steady her nerves.

“Now, I have many, many questions, but I don’t know if I have a lot of time for them. So, first, tell me: what exactly was your involvement in Suwako’s berserk rage?”

Chiyuri nodded. “Um, we’re trying to provoke Re/Awakening in the Immaterial Children. And we know it occurs under sufficient stress. So I was trying to force Youmu into a situation where stress would be natural - either sneaking out of an enemy-infested city, or dealing with a berserk goddess.”

She looked down. “...I-I don’t know what happened with the black fire. We thought that wasn’t supposed to be happening yet.” She looked up, earnestly. “Please, you have to believe me! I-I didn’t know she’d burn up like that!”

The goddess tutted. “...Quite limited indeed. Perhaps a stowaway, then…? What you did was incredibly reckless, you know. I’ve had to set Ran upon the tengu for overstepping their bounds like that.” She stretched. “However, I am willing to let you get away with it… in exchange for more information.”

The girl gulped. “A-and what sort of information would that be?”

“Firstly, are you sincere in your goal of restoring the Immaterial Children back to being humans?”

Chiyuri picked her words carefully. “...One of my goals is, by the end of this, to have the five back where they were. Back with their original families.”

“You’ve been consistent on that. Fascinatingly, this ‘Ichi’ has been similarly consistent on being on the side of leaving their Youkai identities intact? Are you affiliated with her?”

Chiyuri sighed. “We’re aligned in our primary goal, at least, and sharing some resources for that.” She grumbled, squirming. “Her leaving me out to dry overnight here means she’s getting a knuckle sandwich the next time I see her, though.”

“I see. And your ability to resist various mental effects, that’s because you’re… taking remote control of a robot who produces holograms, right?”

“I…” Chiyuri blinked. The gap youkai chuckled. “...For a youkai, you sure know your technology. Especially because the tech we’re using… isn’t exactly common knowledge Outside.” …Now that she was really looking at her, Yukari did look… familiar. But that was surely a coincidence, right? “Y-yes, she’s named Ruukoto. She’s nominally a maid robot, but her creator’s stuck so many odd functions into her over the years that she’s become completely incompetent at her original purpose.”

“...There’s no way that technology is available in the outside world, correct? Not anywhere, at least yet?” The assistant professor flinched. “So, if you’re capable of somehow traveling through time… Why do you act through the Immaterial Children? Can you not save the world yourselves?”

“Aside from the fact we’re humans… like our robot, our ability to move through time is using scientific means. And that means we’re bound by certain rules. As far as we understand it, a big one’s that anything we do has already happened. So we can’t actually change fate on our lonesome.”

“I see! I see.” Yukari chuckled a bit more. “How fascinating. Now… one more question for now, if you don’t mind?”

Ah, here it came. Chiyuri tried to think of a way to stall. “C-can you untie me first, please? I’m getting very stiff here.”

“Oh, of course, of course.” The woman snapped her fingers, and for a moment, Chiyuri felt a clamminess around her hands. Then, they were free, and Chiyuri could stand up.

Err, at least in theory. The pins and needles were killer, though. Yukari sat there, watching the girl try and fail to get up on unsteady legs. “Need a hand?”

“N-no, please no thank you.” The assistant professor tried to search for where the goddess had put her gun, but couldn’t see it. “Err, I know how this is going to sound, but…”

Yukari sighed. “Yes, yes. Your little toy, correct?” She opened up another slit in reality, and stuck her arm through it. Her hand emerged next to Chiyuri, offering the hilt of her pistol.

Chiyuri took it with what not-numb fingers she could manage, getting a sinking feeling as she inspected the weapon. There was only one reason you’d give someone you almost certainly didn’t trust their weapon back; you wanted to see if they were going to try something… reckless. Chiyuri didn’t take the bait, and instead looked up.

“Let me guess. What do we know about the remaining Immaterial Children’s locations and identities?”

Yukari nodded. “If you would. Anything that… comes to mind.” She glanced over. “Surely you can give a little hint?”

Chiyuri sucked in a breath. “Well… we don’t know anything about Marisa. Frankly, she’s as much of a mystery to us as she is to you.”

The gap youkai pulled out a fan, flicking it in front of her face. “I see. And what about the fifth one? What about Kosuzu?”

Chiyuri cursed under her breath, but the threat of getting flogged (or worse, frogged) by the Moriya Goddess would have to excuse her dalliance from the intended path. Besides, they were in a stable time loop. So this was always going to happen, right? “Kudamaki Kosuzu… wakes up this morning, I believe. If the dates I’ve been given are right. She’s a fox youkai.”

“A fox youkai named Kosuzu, hmmm…?” There was a pause. The youkai’s eyes bored into her, unblinking, as she squirmed.

Then, the fan flicked back, revealing a wide grin. “Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Now… tell me everything you can about little Suzu, would you?”

Reisen kept pacing, straining her ears for even the faintest sound. The steady tap-tap-tap of her shoes echoed through the empty halls. The only sound she heard that she didn’t make herself was the slight tinkling of glassware as her master worked on medication mixing.

At length, Eirin let out a heavy sigh, as she turned to her pupil. “Can you please make up your mind on whether you’re going to settle down or not? I am happy to commit to discussing this with you or to the task at hand, but I cannot work with your incessant frittering.”

Reisen bowed, deeply. “S-sorry, Lady Eirin. I’ll settle down, I prom-” Eirin gave her a doubtful look. “...Sorry. It’s just… I hope she doesn’t get too mad.”

“Why?” Her master raised a single eyebrow. “Because you drugged your sister?” The moon rabbit flinched. “All you did was follow my orders, yes?”

“Y-yes, but, but we normally discuss this stuff with patients first.” The rabbit squirmed. “What we did in practice was slip a pill into her drink.”

“After she’d already proven that we would be treating a chronic problem in doing so.” The doctor turned back to her equipment. “The treatment is symptomatic only, but the symptoms themselves will negatively affect her health - and quite possibly the health of multiple others - if left unchecked. There is a reason my orders were absolute on this matter, Reisen. Right now, she’ll need that pill to just function.”

The elder rabbit paced, nervously. “I-I want to come clean. To tell her I did it, and why.”

“I believe that would be wise in most cases… but to confirm my own suspicions, I am going to ask you to allow me to delay just a bit, and to decide when to confirm our action.” The doctor moved some of the used vials to a small tray.

“But… surely she knows about them from her last life, right?” Reisen moved to pick up the tray. “I just worry she’s going to be furious when she wakes up.”

“Frankly?” Eirin rolled her chair back, stretching. “I hope she does get angry. That’s far better than the alternative.” The elder rabbit was about to question, before she heard slow, cautious padding.

+Reisen?+ The elder rabbit stiffened, tuning in on the signal. +Do you… know where Eirin is?+

The elder rabbit took a deep breath. “She’s asking about you, Lady Eirin.”

“Tell her our location. And tell her that if there’s anything she wishes to discuss, it’s best to do so now, while I’m in-between tasks.” Eirin did her best to make sure she was, in fact, in-between two tasks, while her apprentice relayed the invitation. The padding… took a moment to resume, but after a curt reply, began to draw closer.

Reisen took a moment to compose herself. She could hear her sister doing the same, on the other side of the door. After a moment, Akyuu knocked on the door. The doctor sipped at a small flask of tea. “Come in.”

The rabbit stepped in, popping a stiff salute. Reisen was mildly surprised already - it wasn’t like Akyuu was ever sloppy, but she was wearing the full lunar uniform, and sweating for it. The doctor sighed. “At ease, Akyuu. And take that jacket off.”

“U-um, sorry.” The younger rabbit awkwardly, and hastily disrobed. “I- um. Sorry for the disturbance last night.”

Eirin shrugged. “You didn’t wake the Princess this time, fortunately. She considers beauty sleep highly important, you know. Did you at least get back to sleep easily?”

The younger rabbit took a hesitant breath. “Um. Yes. Yes, I did. Aside from some-uh.” She waved her hand hastily. “I… slept well.”

The doctor sipped at her flask. “Were the dreams in the second half better than the first?”

It was an obvious provocation. Reisen flinched, and Akyuu did too. But as the seconds dragged on, the younger rabbit didn’t react the way she expected. “Um. Dreams. I- yes. I guess.”

The doctor chuckled. “Oh, so you remember some of them? Well, considering you didn’t wake up screaming from it, I suppose they’d have to be, hmm?”

Akyuu shifted. “...Um, yeah. I guess.”

…That was it? Reisen tried not to stare at Akyuu. Eirin sat up, looking over at Akyuu. “Was there something you needed to discuss? If so, now’s the time.”

The little rabbit clutched at her arm, pulling on its sleeve. “...I, um. I dreamt I was a butterfly.”

“Is that so.” Eirin hummed, quietly making a note. Reisen… began to get a sinking feeling.

It had been one night since Youmu had come to the surface, and poor Koishi had been brought to her very limit. One night since a month of Akyuu’s scribing work had been completely misplaced. One night since Moriya Suwako had attacked Akyuu in a rage for a descendant that wasn’t there. A descendant who matched the profile of Immaterial Children, but one that Akyuu’s memories from her past life told her didn’t exist.

One night since Youmu had called on the radio, and told her she was wrong. That Suwako’s daughter did exist, had existed, but had already been transformed by the loop Akyuu could remember.

Akyuu had responded in shock, then… she’d just seemed to have wilted. Even after the conversation was over, she’d just sat where she received the message. Reisen had tried to convince her to come to bed, but Eirin had gently coaxed her that she’d come to bed eventually. Which… she wasn’t wrong, when Akyuu had woken her up from her screaming Reisen had found her in her usual bedroom.

It was the fifth time Akyuu had such dreadful nightmares since crash-landing, and the worst by far. Like the previous times, Reisen had been there to steady her, then fetched a glass of water. Any drink could calm the nerves, of course, and Akyuu had accepted it gratefully.

Which meant it had been one night since Reisen had slipped her sister a Butterfly Dream Pill.

It was a product Eirin was planning to sell only a few months from now; a pill that'd replace any dreams one might have with dreams of being an innocent butterfly. It was highly unlikely Akyuu didn’t know about it, and it was the logical treatment to give her. Reisen had done it with no small amount of regret, and at the young rabbit’s request, stayed by her side until she was sure Akyuu was soundly off to sleep (which… had ultimately meant falling asleep alongside her, in the end. Would that such a precious moment hadn’t been so horribly tarnished by it’s circumstances).

Reisen had expected her to wake up at least indignant. At the thought of her sister betraying her, drugging her. But instead… she seemed to be questioning if it happened at all.

…Earth it. Akyuu getting mad would have been better than this. At the time of that conversation, Reisen had wondered if Sanae was a more common name than she thought, from how non-committal Akyuu was acting. Now, though… it was beginning to make a worrying amount of sense.

“...Uhhh… last… time, there was… I think…” The rabbit folded in on herself, a little more. Eirin turned to her, waiting expectantly.

After a few moments, she proffered the answer. “Something that could make someone have those sorts of dreams?” Akyuu nodded, hesitantly. “...A pill, perhaps?”

…A slow sigh of relief.

Reisen surged forward, pulling her sister into a hug. “I’m sorry Akyuu, I-I shouldn’t have drugged you-”

“It’s… fine, really.” Akyuu leant against her. “I… I just wanted to make sure. Because…”

“Your memory is still perfectly accurate, Akyuu.” The doctor stood up, giving her a pat on the head. “In fact, I’d say that’s the whole other half of your problems. After all, you still remember both the drop from the moon and Suwako’s initial attack, yes?”

…Reisen’s eyes narrowed. A part of her brain did fully acknowledge that, ultimately, Suwako was as much a victim as the rest of them. And she certainly could sympathize - or perhaps empathize was the more appropriate word - with her actions in response. But that didn’t mean that she could let what Suwako did go, even with the risk of dire consequences. And while her retaliation would likely be indirect and petty, for risk it would trigger Suwako’s transformation again, it would nevertheless be crystal-clear in its message.

“...Mmmm.” Akyuu nodded, slowly. “Those parts I remember, at least. But who even knows if any of the important stuff's all really there...”

Yagokoro looked down at the young girl, with a shamed look. “I'm sure your memory is as flawless as ever, Akyuu. On all matters. In fact, it's probably playing a factor in your nightmares. The Lunar Veil’s memory wipes are partially designed as a counterbalance - by fading one’s memories, they dull the edge of any true conflict the rabbits experience. But… that’s never been an option for you, has it?” She leant down. “...You need help, Akyuu. Dealing with all of that. Help that I assumed you didn’t need not because I expected you to react in the longer term much like rabbits with those options would.”

Akyuu shook her head. “I… I don’t want to inconvenience you, Lady Eirin.”

The doctor lifted the ear that always seemed to hang over the young rabbit’s eye. “Then let me help. After all, I am a doctor, and the Brains of the Moon. If there’s any case where a lunar rabbit needs help outside of what is already available to them, then my own pride insists I do so.”

She turned her head, towards a small picture of the Princess on her desk. “...And if I make a mistake, and another suffers for it, the only way for me to get my own peaceful rest is to do what I can to ease their burden. Or, at the very least, share it with them. So… please, Akyuu. Let’s at least have a talk about it, okay?”

Akyuu nodded, slowly, starting to tear up. The doctor smiled, straightening up. “Good, and with that settled... For now at least, I’m putting you on psychiatric leave. No tasks today, alright? Reisen, you’re still on, but if your sister wants you with her, we can reschedule as necessary. With one exception.”

The elder rabbit saluted. “Thank you, Lady Eirin, what’s the exception, if I may ask?”

The doctor gave a flippant wave. “The Princess found a certain odd, foreign dish overnight. And she’d like you to try to make it.” She shrugged. “If you don’t want to try it yourself, that’s fine, but we’ll give it a try, at least.

Reisen tilted her head. “Errr… I’m not sure I’m the best person to dabble in foreign cuisine, but I can give it a shot. What’s the dish?”

The doctor had a small smirk on her face. “Cuisses de Grenouille.”

The younger rabbit let out a small gasp. “...Does that mean…?” Reisen looked over at her little sister, who hesitantly offered an explanation. “...Um… it’s a dish made using… frog legs.”

…Oh.

Oh that might just be perfect.

The elder of the Lunarian Inaba gave a dramatic bow for her teacher. “Lady Eirin? I don’t know if it’d suit my palette.”

She turned her head up, giving a vicious grin. “But if you two would like to try such a dish… It would be my absolute pleasure.”

Orin lifted her glass, tilting it back and forth. She stared down at the glass, looking into its contents.

“You know, I’ve seen you wearing that troubled expression with empty cups before. Rare to see you looking so hesitant about a full one.”

The kasha looked up, giving a small grin to match her drinking buddy’s own. “Oh, like you’re one to talk. You’re always one to drown your sorrows without hesitation - when you of all people should know that won’t stop them coming back.”

Minamitsu Murasa gave a hearty guffaw at that. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… at least I’m not Ichirin. I leave the grounds to get my booze on.”

“Sure, sure.” The kasha chuckled. Before long, though, the chuckle degraded, into a sigh. “Hahhhh… sorry, in a bit of a mood today.”

Murasa sat back, nursing her own cup. “Mmm. I figured. So, how’s the situation sittin’, kitten? Everything good at home?”

“Yeah - well, aside from being quiet today.” Orin shrugged. “The Komeiji sisters are getting some sort of pass that’ll let them go to the surface more-or-less at will.”

“Wow, really? Even the famous Satoricluse? What prompted that?” The spirit sipped at her spirits, musing. “Was it related to that Youmu kid showing up Parsee?”

“You heard about that, did you?” The kasha smirked. Now that she thought about it, there had been a lot of pink mist there. Maybe some of the other monks were in the crowd. “...You could say it’s related. Though more in a roundabout way or anything.”

Murasa didn’t give a verbal response, looking to the catgirl for more elaboration on her end. At length, Rin sighed, and gave in. “Well… you know about the Immaterial Children Incident? The one where a bunch of kids got zapped away?”

“Yeah. ‘Cos of Keine, right?” Murasa hummed. “Wait- it’s not one of the Satori sisters, is it?”

Orin shook her head, as Murasa started to sip. “No, but Youmu is one of the seven.”

The sailor spat her drink, breaking into a coughing fit. “Seven?”

The kasha nodded. “Eight if you count Okuu.”

“E-eight…” Murasa seemed completely floored. “A-are you sure? I thought it was like… four or five?”

“Yeah… well, s’ a long story. You wanna hear the details?” With a nod from Murasa, Orin began working her way through the story as she understood it. The apocalypse, the rebirth, and the reborn gathering their memories. Of Youmu’s trip to the surface, the hell-raven’s battle with the Pyres, and the reveal of the Paradox Pair.

Murasa listened intently, only asking the occasional question. By the time the kasha finished, the ghost was nursing her second glass. “...Wow. That’s… a lot to take in. Kinda flips the whole case on its head, huh… But yeah, that’s still seven. At most.” She sipped on her cup, thinking. “Are the birds still gonna stay at Chireiden, or go live at this Haku-whatever place?”

Orin shrugged. “Some kind of hybrid thing, I think. We’ll see.” She sipped at her drink a bit. “But… it’s not what I wanted to ask about today.”

Murasa tilted her head. “Oh yeah? What were you here for?”

The kasha looked up. “My brother, actually. We haven’t talked since we… since the big fight. And when I asked around…” She turned to the sailor. “Is it true? Is he… already gone?”

Murasa had frozen in place. Orin’s concerned look managed to get her moving again, but she wouldn’t meet Orin’s gaze.

“Oh… I see.” The kasha felt her heart sink. Minamitsu put her glass down, trying to put her thoughts into words. “...Your brother got into a fight with the Keiga. He… didn’t make it out.”

Orin let out a shaky breath. “Two years back, right?”

“Mmm.” Murasa leant down. “I’m sorry, I thought you just didn’t want to talk about it.”

Orin’s gaze turned down. She sighed. “...Well, he’s a cat who got into a fight with a pack of wolves. Had to know the odds were against him.”

The two drank in silence for a couple of minutes. Eventually, Orin turned back to the captain. “Do you mind if I ask a few more questions, then?”

Murasa shook her head. “Course not. Anything you need to know, I’ll answer as best I can.”

Orin took a moment to compose her thoughts. “...did he ever talk about our fight?”

“...Not a lot. Well, unless he got drunk.” The sailor conceded. “He’d generally send any of the animals that couldn’t hack it in the wild over your way.”

“Mmmm. Remember a few coming from Myouren Temple. Though they said they weren’t supposed to tell who sent them.” Orin scowled. “Didn’t he give them the whole you-can’t-be-a-pet, where’s-your-dignity speech?”

“Only the big and tough ones. Not the ones who were scared or anything like that.” Murasa waved her hand. “He’d just make sure they were gonna make it there fine, and left it at that.”

“Of course. ‘Cos the whole dignity thing was only half the truth, wasn’t it?” She looked up. “...Did he ever make his move?”

Murasa shook her head, chuckling. “What, confess to the pretty tiger lady he was always gawking at? Nah, never worked up the courage, I think. It’s a hard thing to do at the best of times, anyway.”

Orin scoffed. “Really? They were around each other for… what, ten years?”

The sailor looked away. “It always would have been fraught with trouble. He was brave bordering on foolhardy for anything else, but… perhaps it was better he didn’t. Besides… we woulda had to take any kittens off to some distant place. Former hell’s no place to raise kids.”

At that, the Kasha raised an eyebrow. “Which unfortunate nursery was he going to drop off a bunch of tiger cubs at? ‘Cos most places I know that accept big cats are either worse than here, or make them into pets. I’d be surprised if there’s any place that could raise some little tigers.”

“Well, he was thinking of taking them to one of those outside-word temples. Like Chojosonshi-ji, or Goutoku-ji. At least then they’d be raised as a proper buddhist.”

“Ahhhh… so he had the preschool planned out before the confession, huh?” Orin snorted. “He always did that, you know. Always jumped to the end.”

She turned back to her drink… “Probably for the best, though. If they’d had some kids, had to send them away, and then he got himself killed… he’d have really thrown a brick through poor Shou’s psyche.”

Murasa nodded, resting her head on one of her palms. “...Well, they woulda been cute, I’m sure.”

“Hah, that I’ll give you. Satori would've been all over them.” Orin said, chuckling. Then… she deflated. “Maybe if he’d done that, I’d have… someone to apologize to, at least. For being a lazy big sister that wasn’t there for him.”

“...Orin-”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” The cat waved her off. “And I know he made his own choices. Just… you know. Wish I coulda spoken to him, one last time. At least tried to bury the hatchet a bit.”

Murasa reached out, rubbing her shoulder. “It’s… not your fault, Rin. Or at least, not just your fault. He coulda come and talked to you, too. You wouldn’t have turned him down, right?”

Orin gave a weak smile. “No. Of course not. But I didn’t go out looking for him, either. Hahhh… guess you miss every shot you don’t take, right?”

She paused, taking up her glass. “So… I’m not gonna let that happen again. I’m gonna make sure that if I get in fights with anyone, I’ll make it up as soon as I can. I’m gonna make sure the Komeiji Sisters and the bird-brain twins know I’ve got their back, no matter where they go.”

Murasa smiled. “Sounds like a plan. We’ve all only got one life to live, after all.” The two halted, the cat giving an off-kilter glance as the ghost considered what she said. And then they both burst out laughing.

Orin recovered a bit faster, lifting her glass. “Well, no use moping now. I’ll come visit sometime soon to pay my respects… but if I don’t want to have any regrets, I can’t just leave this sake unfinished, can I?”

Murasa chuckled. “That you cannot. But if you insist on finishing that whole bottle… I guess I’ll have to step up and lend a hand, won’t I? Cheers, Orin.”

The two girls grinned, clinking their glasses together. “Cheers, Murasa.” She took a hearty drink.

As she did, she sat back, closing her eyes.

Hope we meet again in the next life, Bro. Take it easy, alright? She smiled.

Don’t worry. You’ll get the girl next time.

---

Epilogue Orin Complete.
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...Loading Epilogue: Prologue...

It was the last day of her life.

[It was the first day of her life.]

She was tired. She was so very tired. Something about the nights in the gap weren’t restful. She could sleep, and wake up less sore, but not truly rested. Always tired.

[Maybe “tired” wasn’t the right word. The tiredness wasn’t something that made her muscles ache, and she couldn’t sleep it off. But the right word to use escaped her.]

It was a heavy tiredness. A weight across all her body, making her sluggish and stiff.

[...She had been tired even before [she] had been thinking. Before Reimu had come, trying to rouse her into action, begging her to come back to life.]

Reimu had tried many things. And in one of them, desperate and hopeless, she’d reached out for Aunn. Used an incredible amount of power, and begged her to be by her side.

There was nothing Aunn wanted to do more. She’d agreed, and something had formed within her. A second voice in her head, almost identical to her own.

[...But she still couldn’t move. She was too tired.]

She wanted to help. She knew Reimu needed help. She knew they all needed help.

[As much as her mind was flickering in and out of consciousness, she’d seen what had happened to Marisa. With her own eyes.]

And she could sense it - something was wrong, with the whole world around her.

[In front of her, Yakumo Yukari was collapsed on her knees, limp and gasping for breath. She looked… unsalvagable. Charred and burning. Whole parts of her were missing, and a silvery ash was pooling beneath her. Aunn wanted to help, wanted to bring her inside, but… she couldn’t. She couldn’t help at all.]

And beyond Yukari was… a wasteland. The dried, dead bones of Gensokyo. The sight should have had her screaming in horror, and yet… the exhaustion was still too much to resist. All she could do was stare.

[She felt herself slipping into sleep, one final time. She tried, desperately, to stay awake, but she just… couldn’t…]

…

………[!!!]

She jolted awake! It was like a splash of cold water had hit her right-side body. She still couldn’t move, but… she was feeling more alert than she had in days.

“Feeling a little better?” She directed her gaze down to Yukari. The youkai was smiling at her, her open palm facing Aunn’s right statue. “I’m surprised you held out as long as you did.”

[She wanted to speak, to ask her what had happened. How had she been stirred away from a final sleep? …Her gaze traced its way to the palm. Had she thrown something…?]

Yukari shook her head. “I’m sure you have many questions, but… I can’t read your mind or anything like that. So you’re just gonna have to stay awake and listen.”

The sage’s hands traced through the ash beneath her, drawing it up in a heaping pile. “I did my best to fend off the smaller beasts, long enough for the Immortals to finally take a hint. Fighting off the biggest pyre… didn’t go quite so well.” She chuckled mirthlessly, before breaking into coughing. “They really should have been quicker on the uptake, though…”

Aunn wanted to reach out to her. She wanted to ask a million questions. [Not like she actually could though.]

“Listen, Aunn. This incident, this apocalypse. We… we don’t have the resources to fight it. We have some aces in the hole, but… there’s nowhere near enough of them. We need a chance to do things over, and make some more. And to do that… We’ll have to have another chance. We have to make ourselves another chance.”

Yukari pulled the pile of ash into her hands. “But, as a result, the girls you’ve been guarding… in this changed history, it’s possible that none of them will be the same.” She pushed the ash into Aunn’s left body, producing the same shock again. “In fact, it may very well be better that way.”

She paused, looking up. “You’ve become Reimu’s shikigami, have you? I can sense the link to her soul in you. And yet… you don’t seem to have any binding talismans on you. How has she done that…?”

[A shikigami? Was that what she was?]

A shikigami? Was that what [she] was?

Yukari rubbed her hand on Aunn’s body, trying to focus. “...I can sense it. The boundary between shikigami and komainu is close… did Reimu embed it right into your heart?” Her eyes widened. “Wait, your heart… it’s a magatama, isn’t it?”

[The gap youkai broke into coughing again, a wracked, wretched sound. Aunn wanted to confirm her suspicions, to find something to soothe Yukari’s wounds. But she couldn’t move, no matter what she tried to do.]

Yukari took a ragged breath, pulling herself together. “Komano Aunn. I have a task you, and only you, can perform. I need you… to be excluded from the world. And in so doing, be excluded from its remaking.”

She looked up. “That… may not make sense to you. But all you need to understand is that… you will find yourself in a world similar, but… different. Because some - hopefully all - of the girls who are here will be elsewhere in the next world.”

She pulled herself up. “Aunn… I need you to tell everyone that. I need you to pass on the message. To Hakurei Haru. To the Hiedas. To Yuyuko. And to the other families, as well. Their girls may not be with you, but they’re still out there. You need to give them hope, and you need to make sure that Haru and Reimu meet again. Can you do that, Aunn?”

Aunn didn’t really understand. [She didn’t understand at all.] This whole world was crazy, and the way to fix it was to remove Reimu and the others from it? How would that work?

But she didn’t need to understand. She pulled all her power together. All of it, every last drop she could muster, powering it into only one place.

It was the most herculean task she’d ever performed. Not fighting the turtle-dragon, not defending against hopeless odds or vengeful spirits.

[All it was, was a word. Just one, as quiet as a whisper.]

And yet, despite being so hushed, it echoed across the grounds. It was the only sound in the world. Yukari leant back on her haunches, thinking. And then… she smiled.

“Ahhhh… few things are more faithful than a hound, are they? …Thank you, Aunn. You are the last card I can play… my truly final hope. Please, keep all of the families with missing children together, until their kids come home. Bring these families, and their children, their happy endings. Give them hope, when all hope is lost. Because, if a beast like that emerges… I’m not sure if anyone can survive her.”

She would have saluted, if she could. Being a defender against all things ill was what a Komainu did best, after all.

[Yukari wasn’t her master, but in this moment, that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that there was a way she could still help Reimu, even when things were this bad. And for that chance, she’d do anything she had to.]

Yukari lifted her hand.” While these girls will be our swords against despair, you must be our shield. Hold the line, until the girls come back.” She smirked. “And they will. They’ll come home.”

The sage of the gap balled her hand into a fist. A purple spiral began to form around her hand. “Now, I’m sorry to say this, but… there’s only one way to get your magatama soul out. You’re in no state to take any anesthetic, and I’m in no state to administer it to you. So… I guess we’re doing this raw.”

With those words, Aunn… was having doubts. Those doubts only solidified when the spiral did as well, becoming a glowing drill with a razor-sharp tip.

Yukari gave a grimace. “I’m sorry, Aunn. This may sting a bit.”

[She shoved the drill into Aunn’s chest.]

And the Komainu woke up.

Aunn screamed, shooting upright with both bodies at the same time. Her horn clipped someone’s chin, producing a pained yelp.

[Her head whipped around, to see Satori flopped back.] “Ah… sorry! Are you okay, Miss Satori?”

The elder Komeiji gave a strained noise to the affirmative, while her sister gave a wry chuckle. “Toldja not to get too close, sis. Don’t worry Aunn, she just bit her own tongue. And she really should know better by now.”

“Mmmmmph. Ahhhh.” Satori opened her mouth a few times, gingerly. “Nnn. Couldn’t rethith. Too cute. That dream, wath that…?”

Aunn took a deep breath, composing herself to respond. “The end of the previous timeline, or at least my recollection of it. After that, Yukari… did something to make sure I remembered what happened last time.”

[It appeared she had made Aunn’s twin half-hearts exempt from Keine’s ability to restore history. She had ended up on the Hakurei grounds shortly before Reimu’s not-birth, and after what was apparently much discussion, Misumaru had carved new bodies for her.]

“When I was revived, I did my best to let everyone know what I knew… which wasn’t much.” The komainu huffed. “I clearly missed no small amount, not least of which was the actual plan.”

“Really, that part was almost more convincing than telling us the actual story.” Hakurei Haru strode up, offering tea to the trio. Suwako Moriya was following behind her, holding a cup of her own. “Playing her cards so close to her chest that she nearly throws the entire game… that’s Yukari for you.”

Aunn sipped at her proffered tea, and the rest followed suit. It seemed Haru had picked a cold brew - a natural over the summer, but clearly exactly what Satori’s bitten tongue needed. Koishi drank greedily, before turning to the Shrine Maiden with eager eyes. “Lady Hakurei! Have you decided to approve our request?”

The miko took a long look at the girls, before nodding, stiffly. “As business partners of the Moriya Shrine, I decided to allow some concessions. I permit you to come to the surface with Moriya supervision; but traveling on your own, or in disguises is officially off-limits for now.”

Aunn raised an eyebrow. That seemed rather restrictive… and yet, the two Komeiji sisters were smiling? Satori turned to the komainu to explain. “The keyword there ith othithially.”

[...It took several seconds to parse what Satori said, but when it did, it all clicked into place.] “Oh, of course! Under those conditions, if anything goes wrong-”

Suwako nodded. “-the Moriya Shrine will be the ones taking fault, keeping the Hakurei’s reputation as clean as it can be. And likewise, if you do want to go out with those conditions, we’re once again shouldering the risk.”

Haru groaned, rubbing her forehead. “Look, I have a draconic daughter coming to the shrine, and even with that disguise and cover story Yukari’s developing we’re going to be fighting to avoid getting… a reputation. I’d rather stave off any unnecessary claims of being a youkai shrine.”

Satori stood up. “Can we go over the thine print? I’ll be the one who thetth the ruleth, after all.” The goddess and miko agreed, stepping away to go over the documents.

That left Aunn and Koishi, watching the other three go. Koishi set her cup down, cuddling up to one of the komainu’s bodies. Aunn gave her a small smile. “It’s good to see you’re both well, Koishi.” [She was one of the people who remembered her state last time, after all, and this was a marked improvement.] …She wasn’t going to close her eye again, right?

Koishi petted her some more, deep in thought. “...I’ve hated being a satori for so, so long. I hated the stares, and the suspicion. I always wanted to be rid of it, somehow.”

She looked out into the distance. “...But if I can use my power for good, maybe I don’t have to be. Maybe I don’t have to change myself, but prove myself. Prove that we can be good too. And with that in mind… is there anything I can do to help?”

Aunn leant into the petting, her tailing wagging. “If you can, keep an eye out - you know which one - for any details on the remaining Immaterial Children. Particularly if there really is a Marisa visiting the village.”

Aunn had tried to approach the girl multiple times, but she always seemed to slip away. [Perhaps it was mere coincidence… but it was easy to assume that a young youkai undercover in the village may have misread the intentions of the Shrine Maiden’s shikigami approaching them.]

Koishi turned to her, confused. “Wait, Aunn, the Marisa in your dreams was blonde, right? With a hair braid? But the ‘Marisa’ you’re remembering-”

“Had short, red hair, yes.” Aunn confirmed. “Which actually does suggest she could be Marisa, in fact.”

Her body that wasn’t currently being cuddled took a sip of tea before she elaborated. “The Kirisame clan and a few attached families have rather distinctive red hair, at least among humans in Gensokyo. Outsider genes, or maybe some distant youkai ones. When Marisa from the last timeline fled the village, she bleached it… or so I heard.”

Koishi took a moment to muse, running her hands through Aunn’s hair. “...I see. Considering Youmu’s ghostly-white hair, she might be a redhead again too.” She raised the cup to her lips, taking another sip. “If this really is Marisa, of course.”

“I don’t know of any other girls her age who both had that color hair and wore it short.” Aunn shrugged. Well… there was that one outsider girl with the right color, but she wore it in a very long ponytail. And as far as Aunn knew, she only came to Gensokyo when she was significantly older.

[Besides, according to her letters, Reimu had said there was a one-in-three chance that Marisa was in the village, and such an oddly specific number said that her mistress’ intuition was on to something.] …The komainu’s tail began to wag, at the thought of the heiress miko’s imminent arrival.

Koishi turned to Aunn, looking anxious. “Reimu’s gonna be the next Shrine Maiden, right? …Sh-she’s not gonna chase us off, is she?”

The komainu shook her head. “I’m not gonna say she’s above that level of hypocrisy… but at her heart, she’s a kind girl. Even if you do cause trouble, she’d give you a bonk on the head, tell you not to do it again, and that’d be that.”

“...If you say so…”

Aunn laughed at Koishi’s concerned expression. “It’ll be fine, Koishi. If you’re here to help, Reimu will be glad to have you on side.” The komainu sighed. “...though, I can’t say I’m not worried how it’ll all work out.”

Between Haru nearly dying only just before getting to see her daughter, and the tengu storming the village, Reimu was going to have to hit the ground running. Koishi sat back, giving the komainu a small smile. “Maybe you can talk through the problems with me, and we can come up with some plans to help? I can’t promise anything, of course… but it might help to talk it out, at least.”

Aunn blinked, before giving a small smile. “You’re really gonna go through with it, huh? Alright, let’s see…”

…Yeah. Koishi was better this way. And Aunn was sure Reimu’d agree, too, with how eager she was to just help people. The two got into a lively discussion, about all the problems big and small that the young shrine maiden would have to face. [Not all of the problems they had solutions for, even with Reimu’s assumed help, but if it made her job even 0.001% easier, that would be worth it.]

After all, serving their master… that was what a shikigami was supposed to do. [And after all this time, the thought of Reimu coming home, and working alongside her…]

Aunn couldn’t wait to start.

“So, wait,” Chen interjected, rubbing her forehead in irritation. “The ‘village Marisa’ we’ve been chasing all this time…”

“Was my past self, yes. At least judging by that description.” Yumemi put her hands together in apology. “I came to visit because I thought I might be able to find Marisa if I looked. After all, if she was blending in among the humans there, then a human the same age would be the best to find her, no?”

The hospital ward in Keiki’s estate only really had space for a couple of patients. Fortunately, a couple was the exact number that needed long-term surgical surveillance - Yumemi’s knife wound and Chen’s broken bones. This led the two to get some time to talk over the finer points, and trade some valuable notes.

The nekomata sputtered for a moment. “Th-then why did you run away from Aunn?!”

Yumemi sighed. “Because the worst days of my life have been associated with red dogs wanting to take me places. I thought she might be related to the Keiga Family, and I wasn’t about to hang around and find out.”

Chen groaned, running her hand down her face. “I… guess that makes sense, but still…”

Yumemi shrugged, helplessly. “I wish I could go back and confess before it happened, but my time travel doesn’t work that way. If it happened, it happened, and I can’t change it.”

“Is that so?”

The two turned to the new speaker in the room. Yakumo Yukari stepped inside, a crow on her shoulder, with Yakumo Ran close behind.

…She really did look familiar… Yumemi shook her head, nodding. “Yes. My time travel is bound by the limits of science. It’s not like the Immaterial Children’s style of changing history.”

“…I see.” Yukari kept her gaze levelled at Yumemi, not saying anything. Did she remember her too, perhaps? … Though the expression was anything but fond, conveying far more doubt and suspicion. …Well, maybe Yumemi would at least get the answers she’d been searching for.

There was a small pause, as both Yumemi and Chen craned their necks, trying to see around the two of them. The sage rolled her eyes, after a second. “Kosuzu is playing with Reimu right now. This conversation I would rather have without her, regardless.”

Chen straightened up. “Lady Yukari? And Goki as well! Does that mean you found the book?”

Yukari nodded, standing tall. “Yes, we did. And that’s exactly why I want to talk to you today.”

Yumemi was already bursting with curiosity. “Did it match the description Mabuchi gave?”

The two Yakumo elders shared a hesitant glance before continuing. Ran began to explain. “...When Yukari asked, Mr Motoori’s description was ‘a book made of materials not available in the Human Village, with the visage of an oni on it’s cover’. We… did find a book that fits that description, and found the Hollow Psyche Spell within. But the book itself raises questions.”

Yumemi straightened up. “If you need help finding the author, I have a bunch of tech ready. Handwriting analysis, material composition, if there’s anything I can do-”

“That… won’t be necessary,” Yukari interjected. “We know exactly who the author is.”

After a moment’s more thought, the sage opened a gap, pulling out… a strange book indeed. At least, a strange book if it was a magical grimoire.

Yumemi had an image of what a magical grimoire would look like, in her head. A heavy, bejeweled leather tome, bearing the marks of a book carefully preserved and yet slowly succumbing to time. Indeed, many of the books Kosuzu and her had been looking at when they’d visited the library fit exactly the expectations manga and anime had set up for her, and the Bluebell Grimoire could have leapt right out of her imagination. The part about an oni’s visage being emblazoned on the cover had been especially evocative, leading to the time traveler envisioning a face so expansive and large that it looked like it could bite off a careless finger - and maybe even actually would.

…She was familiar with the style of tome that Yukari had presented, too. They had a book of similar make back on the university campus. It was carefully preserved - it was a historical artifact, afterall - but it was otherwise largely treated as a novelty, and not given much mind.

…But… But why did the tome that ruined Kosuzu’s life look like an elementary school textbook?

Chen’s expression mirrored Yumemi’s own confusion and disbelief as the nekomata was handed the tome. She took a moment to flip the book around, feeling the plastic-like cover as if expecting to find a trick. The oni on the cover was perhaps the most misleading, to the point Yumemi actually felt disappointed - rather than the demonic features she had been expecting, the oni instead appeared to be a small, starry-eyed mascot, with a helpful little speech bubble proclaiming the book’s title.

And what a title it was.

“The Nippakunomicon,” Chen started, incredulity in every part of her tone. “The One-Stop Primer to Applied Spirituality and Post-Mortem Employment, by Nippaku Zanmu. First Edition.”
She paused, opening the book up. “...Signed by the author.”

Ran bowed. “We have already examined the signature. It is no forgery - that book appears to be entirely legitimate.”

Yumemi stared at the book, sputtering. “Wh- what the hell is that book?! That’s the book that Kudamaki used?! Y-you can’t seriously be telling me this is a commercial textbook?!”

Yukari nodded, grimly. “It appears to be exactly that. Let us just say this sort of egotism is… typical of the author. Nippaku Zanmu is many things, but humble is not one of them.”

Yumemi stared at the book. “And - and she’s selling the ability to make Hollow Psyches like-like this?! She just released that sort of power out into the world?”

Ran shook her head. “You’d think so, but no - it actually includes some simple countermeasures. Slight modifications to existing wards, designed to repulse the mote forms with so little disruption that even the most sensitive will struggle to notice it. We suspect it is so even those who have no interest in necromancy are compelled to purchase a copy if they have something to hide - though, knowing Zanmu, she may very well push to make the modifications standard if she can put her name to it.”

Yukari sighed. “In fact, the Hollow Psyche spell is somewhat maligned within the book itself, precisely because it can be so easily counteracted with the right information. Treated more as a novelty than as a serious recommendation.”

“It…” Chen’s face was utterly distraught. “It was that easy to protect Kosuzu?”

Yumemi turned to the elder Yakumo, narrowing her eyes. “...What’s the catch? There’s clearly some catch here, right? Ran’s a spellcasting genius, and you’re one of the tentpoles of Gensokyo. Surely you two can’t have been outf- outwitted by this if it’s almost common knowledge?”

Ran didn’t meet her gaze. “We… are flattered you think so much of our abilities. And indeed, there is a catch; the publishing date.”

Chen gasped, as Yumemi whipped her head around to the other patient. The nekomata’s face was pale, as she turned to the time-traveller.

“This book’s publishing date… It’s not possible this book was around seven years ago. It shouldn’t have even been around today- it hasn’t been printed yet.” She handed the book to the stunned time-traveller. “Yumemi… This book is from the future.”

Yumemi stared at the book, thumbing back and forth through its pages. She tried to focus on reading the contents, seeing if there was anything else to be gained, but her eyes just kept going back to the first pages - to the publishing date.

The problem wasn’t that the date was inexplicable. The problem was what those explanations lead to.

“Why… how…” Her voice came out as no more than a whisper. “Wh-why is this… why?”

She looked up at the Yakumo’s, desperation starting to creep into her voice. “I-is… is there any chance-”

“There are three methods in which things from the ‘future’ can appear in the ‘present’, according to our current knowledge.” Yukari started. “One is the method of rewriting history the Immaterial Children used, which only allows for memories to be preserved. The only one who could have possibly made this book is Akyuu, and that would have required her to write and deliver the book from the moon at the age of three. The second is, using my powers, to separate certain objects from history while it is reset via the first method. While it is technically possible that this occurred, there is no reason I wouldn’t have sent the book to either myself or the Hakurei Shrine. Tsukasa should have had no chance to take it.”

Ran shook her head. “And while there is a possibility it is a forgery… there is a section about the spiritual immunity afforded by haniwa. In the book, it is attributed to a discussion between Zanmu and Keiki. But Keiki has testified the discussion where such was to take place… has been scheduled for when Zanmu returns from some business in the outside world.” The kitsune looked at her, with pity in her eyes. “...I am sorry to say, it is extremely probable that the book came from our future.”

Chen tried to speak up. “B-but you two aren’t seriously accusing Yumemi of sending the book back, are you?”

Yukari stepped closer. “As far as we are aware, all time machines capable of such a trip in this day and age are ones that were developed by Yumemi herself - assuming you and Chiyuri are sharing such devices. Could Chiyuri be responsible…?”

“She wouldn’t dare do that under my nose. She gets some crazy ideas in her head, but she knows full well what I’d do to whoever gave Tsukasa that book. Not that it matters, anyways.” Yumemi felt rot slithering through her stomach, looking guiltily at the Yakumo family. “I invented these machines, and I’m the one who wants to prove magic exists to the outside world. If they were why Kosuzu got hurt…” She jammed a finger in her chest. “It all ties back to this idiot.”

Yukari gave her a quiet nod. “I feared as much. And there’s another factor to it, too.” She paused for a moment, conflicted.

“The source of the black flame… we’ve done significant investigation into the matter, but found no leads as to how or where it was created.” Yumemi felt her heart stop. “And the Immaterial Children claim the apocalypse they came to prevent is still years away. But if this book came from the future-”

Yumemi tried to pull herself out of the bed, falling to the floor. Her hand reached out, managing to snatch at a trash can and haul herself to it. She clambered over it, bile already starting to spill from her mouth.

For a long moment, that was the only sound in the room, wretched and repulsive. She let out ragged gasp, struggling to breathe as her mind raced with hundreds of disastrous scenarios. She heard someone kneel next to her, tails sweeping into her vision. “Yumemi…”

“I-I came back to help her.” The time-traveller managed, blinking back tears. “I came back to save her… to pull her out of this nightmare, any way I could. And you’re telling me… that the bastard that started the apocalypse is using my machines?!”

She raised her hand, slamming it into the ground. Pain shot up it, and she winced. “Damn it… DAMN IT!”

She punched the ground again, feeling the sting run up her shoulder. Ran grabbed her arm, stopping her from a third strike. “Yumemi! Please… you need to stay calm!”

“It’s not like there’s any other theories!” Yumemi tried to wrench her arm out of Ran’s grip, struggling to no avail against the shikigami. “It’s because of me that they have to deal with all this! Why else would anyone even think-”

“Enough.” Yukari stepped over, turning to the time-traveller. “Yumemi. There is… one possibility.”

Yumemi looked up at her, tears streaming down her face as Yukari continued. “If this ember came from the future, then why? What purpose does trying to destroy the world when you know it will still be standing years later? …It’s possible that whoever brought this didn’t understand the mechanics of your time travel.”

The girl blinked, as Ran helped her up. “If so, our would-be assailant made a grave error. Not only were no lives lost in the Pyre’s rampage, but we gained an ember to research - years in advance of when the Pyres will become an existential threat.”

Chen’s eyes lit up in realization. “You mean, because they used Yumemi’s time travel, we know they’re coming… so we can get ready to sabotage them before it ever starts!”

Yumemi couldn’t meet the Yakumo’s faces. “That’s… an optimistic reading… And besides, even then I’d never want them to-”

“Perhaps,” Ran offered, “there is more that we don’t yet know about. What we’re saying is only a possibility, nothing more. And on the other hand, if the only time travel machines are in your and Chiyuri’s possession… that puts you at no small amount of risk.”

Yukari nodded. “From now on, we’re reducing any news about the events to an absolute need-to-know basis. We will research methods to counter the black flames using the resources we have, and we will turn this against whoever’s responsible. Agreed?”

Yumemi stared into the youkai’s eyes, narrowing them in agreement. “...Of course. And if they want to try and take my ship… I’ll make sure they regret it. I might not be able to stop them… but I’ll be able to make them hurt.”

The sage gave the barest hint of a smile. “Well, let us hope it doesn’t come to that. Though… there is one more matter to discuss.” Yukari narrowed her eyes. “This… plan of yours.”

Yumemi met the sage’s gaze as she spoke. “I have heard some details from Chiyuri. It seems that you two have some overarching plan… and yet, your goals are presented in a rather contradictory manner.”

The time traveller glanced over at Ran. “...I’d be happy to explain the plan in full, Lady Yukari - though perhaps it would be best if I discussed it with only you, first. You’re someone who may very well be essential to it.”

Yukari and Ran exchanged a glance. Kosuzu’s mother spoke up, concern tinting her voice. “Is there any reason that I cannot hear it?”

Yumemi shook her head. “No, I wanted to present it to everyone in time. But… perhaps it’s better if I give the explanation a test-run.”

The gap youkai gave her a level look. “...You believe there’s something Ran would find objectionable?”

The time traveller met her gaze. “I believe you’re in a much better position to judge that than I am.”

After a long moment, Yukari gave her shikigami a nod, and opened up a gap. “Very well.” She sat Yumemi on the hospital bed, as the gap began to swallow it. “Let us have a talk, you and I. Away from any… prying eyes.”

Epilogue: Yumemi Complete
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