Three slow but firm knocks on the front door. That was the cue.

The dolls in the kitchen paused in their actions, tilting their heads to their mistress, waiting for further orders. Alice knew the rhythm of the knocks well. Only one person ever knocked this way on Alice’s house door, and they were coincidentally the only person that ever made a regular habit of visiting. A mix of joy and trepidation arose in her chest, but she pushed it down with a steadying breath. A few gestures of her ring and pinky fingers were then enough to send two of her dolls flying through the house to let the visitor in.

The door opened with a familiar creak. “Shanghai and Hourai! Still as cute as usual. Do something new with your hair?”

Alice walked out of the kitchen just in time to see the dolls take Marisa’s hat and coat from her and drift them over to dry on the coat rack. The Forest of Magic was no stranger to light morning drizzles, but sometimes it still worried Alice to see Marisa flying in such conditions. The dawn mists could rival those of the Misty Lake, and a single accidental collision could be lethal for humans.

Alice walked over and greeted her oldest friend with a smile. “Well, well,” she said, with a light smirk on her face. “Actually on time today. Will the wonders ever cease?”

Marisa chuckled as she did a long stretch, shaking off the soreness from her flight. “Alice, you hardly ever make Japanese food. I wasn’t going to miss this for the world.”

Alice heaved a mock sigh as she took off her apron. “Had I known that this would be the best way to get you to attend our meetings on time, I would be the best Japanese chef this side of the Human Village. Come on, go wash your hands and I’ll have my dolls set the table.”

As Marisa hummed and made her way to the bathroom, Alice tugged slightly on the strings. The dolls left in the kitchen sprang into action, and started moving plates and chopsticks into the dining room. Two sets – one for Marisa, and one for her.

Alice always preferred western food more, but despite Marisa’s stubborn insistence on wanting to always look like a “western-style” witch, her upbringing had gave her a clear bias towards foods traditionally made in the Human Village. Alice had to slowly learn those dishes and perfect them to her exacting standards – looking back, it had taken several years.

But that was fine, of course; as a youkai magician, Alice had nothing but time on her hands. And Marisa was worth it.

When Marisa came returned to the dining room, the table was set to perfection. A worthy breakfast - deliciously soft tamagoyaki, lightly grilled salmon from the Youkai Mountain streams, pickled vegetables that she had jarred and preserved herself, as well as bowls of steaming, fluffy white rice. Traditional and respectable. And of course, the miso soup. Alice had labored over the stock for more time than was probably necessary, to get the taste just as she wanted it. The witch “oohed” and “aahed” at every dish, and Alice helpfully guided Marisa to her seat before she tipped something over in her excitement.

The puppeteer sat down as well, picking up her teacup. “I can now see that my efforts are appreciated,” said Alice, after taking a sip from her tea. Green, of course – it complimented the dishes better. Her prized black tea collection would have to sit this one out.

“Definitely,” said Marisa around a mouthful of rice. The Yama herself couldn’t fix the witch’s table manners, so Alice had never bothered. After swallowing with some difficulty, Marisa continued. “You’ve outdone yourself, Alice. Bravo. Where the heck did you get the pickled lotus?”

The conversation then drifted, flitting between the usual topics like a well-rehearsed dance. Marisa would moan and complain about Reimu’s retirement, and Alice would concede that while the new miko was much more hardworking, the girl was currently less capable of keeping the average youkai in check. While the spellcard system was still being honored among the more powerful humans and youkai, the smaller youkai in the reeds had grown bolder. Crueler. To protect itself, the human village was training its own exorcists now, banishing youkai the old-fashioned way.

Marisa would grumble even more; then Alice would agree, but also note that maybe this was a return to the norm, and the odd peace under Reimu’s “rule” had been the outlier.

“It was a blasted good outlier though,” said Marisa grumpily. She sipped the miso soup for the first time, and made a surprised sound. Alice waited with bated breath.

“This is really good,” said Marisa, voice filled with wonder. “Where – how did you make this?”

Alice grinned. “A mix of stewed pork and fish, with a nice dashi stock as base. You probably don’t get many get a lot of restaurants selling this in the village. Way too expensive for a simple soup.”

Marisa shook her head slowly. “I’d still pay top dollar for this. You plan on selling it, I can be your front woman in the village.”

Alice sniffed. “I don’t need you. The village knows me – the children love their puppeteer big sister.”

“Puppeteer big sister that never ages,” laughed Marisa good naturedly. But she remembered something, and her expression turned serious. “Wait, let me first get back to the original reason I wanted to meet."

"Oh?" Alice raised an eyebrow. "Something new?"

Marisa nodded and said, "The Grass Roots Youkai Network have been getting threatened recently. Intimidating messages, knives and ofuda on their doors, the works. They’ve taken to battening down the hatches and waiting it out, but since they live so far away from each other they haven’t been able to keep in touch like usual. Sometime ago, Wakasagihime disappeared and the others haven’t seen her since.”

Alice swirled the tofu and meats in her miso soup slowly before taking a sip. “And so? The Ordinary Magician is helping random youkai now?”

“Well, someone has to,” said Marisa with a shrug. “They’re youkai, and they’re a bit dorky, but have always been good eggs. We might be on... opposite sides per se, but my conscience wouldn’t allow it if one of them got exorcised by some young hotshot onmyoji and they never figured out what happened. They deserve the truth, at least.”

They both picked at their food. Marisa’s face was heavy. This was clearly important to her, something that she could pitch in to do now that Reimu wasn’t able to. Even if was too late for Wakasagihime, it was important at least to find out the truth, uphold the peace, and help maintain the normalcy that she once took for granted.

“That… bad, huh?” said Alice quietly.

Marisa groaned. “Look Alice, you don’t go out that much anymore but I’m not kidding when I say it’s getting messier than usual. I’m expecting the worst at this point. That’s why I wanted to meet up with you this morning – you’ve always been better at tracking down things like this than I have. I’ll need your help with this.”

“…I always did tell you that focusing on firepower above all else was going to cost you some day,” said Alice with a sigh. In response, Marisa grinned cheekily.

“Why bother? I’ll always have you.”

After their breakfast, Alice prepared a picnic basket and began the flight over to the Misty Lake with Marisa. It was rare that she headed that way at all; her visits to Patchouli had gotten rarer and rarer throughout the years, as she had dedicated her focus to puppetry and even Patchouli’s immense library had been unable to help her in the fields that she wished to study. Marisa had always chalked that up as an excuse for Alice’s loner tendencies, and in truth Alice couldn’t really refute her. It just seemed… unnecessary, to see anyone else with no gain to be had. And Marisa’s visits were all the socializing that Alice really needed, as lively as the witch always was.

It was still raining. The enchantments kept the worst of the weather out of Alice’s clothes and face, but the dampness was still noticeable. Thankfully, Marisa had dialed back the ridiculous speed that she had been known for during her youth and the flight was set at a manageable pace. The gnarled trees of the Forest of Magic gave away to the rice fields around the Human Village; and the fields soon disappeared as the duo flew further. Fairies were more subdued in the rainy weather, and did not prove to be any nuisance. As the two spellcasters eventually landed on the water’s edge, they briefly took in the grey shoreline of the Misty Lake before getting to work, like a well-oiled machine.

Marisa had brought some of Wakasagihime’s clothing and trinkets, gotten from her friends in the Grassroots Network. As Alice wove the tracking spell to find their owner, her own dolls sped across the silvery surface of the lake, trying to find anything unusual. She even sent one of her dolls underwater to the mermaid’s home, but there they only found a torn door and a deserted house.

“And Shanghai found nothing in her home?” pressed Marisa.

“Nothing really of note, unfortunately,” said Alice, looking through Shanghai’s eyes. With some difficulty, she transferred the remote seeing-eye spell over to Marisa’s senses. “Take a look for yourself. Either she left in a hurry, or this presumed kidnapper came too quick for her to prepare.”

Marisa took a long look, before sighing in frustration. “Could the average onmyoji banish a mermaid in her own lair? Why the heck would they want to do that, when other more threatening youkai exist?” muttered Marisa. The witch leaned heavily against her broomstick, deep in thought. “I really hate having to think about stuff like this. It used to be more… ‘mischief’ in mysteries, not straight up assaults.”

“We don’t know if it’s assault yet,” said Alice thoughtfully. “Like you said, it’s unlikely that someone from the village would go so far as to slay a mermaid for no reason. It is far more possible that Wakasagihime could have just run and hid in another location that none of her friends knew. None of them can go underwater, after all.”

Marisa snorted. “How about the door? Almost busted off its hinges, just from her leaving so quickly?”

“Could be just due to not being maintained. If anything, it might be because she went into hiding earlier than we all thought. But you’re right. We need more info, and I’ll have my dolls search around her house for any more clues.”

“That’s a good idea. Anything else I could help with?” asked Marisa.

Alice hummed. “Not really. But you could help bring over the picnic basket. All this work has gotten me hungry again, and there’s really nothing left to do until I let the tracking spell spin itself up.”

Marisa clapped Alice on the back gratefully. “I knew I brought you over for a reason. Be right back.”

Smiling, Alice turned back to her spellwork, concentrating on the final details to put into place. She placed Wakasagihime’s clothes into their magic circle, and waited for something to happen.

Nothing. No response from the spell.

“Nothing?” groused Marisa, back with the basket. “Figures it wouldn’t be that easy. What do you think is wrong?”

Alice frowned. “I really don’t know. I’d have to recheck my work, but my guess is that she just fled further than we actually thought. There are some streams leading up to Youkai Mountain, and she could have sought refuge under the tengu.”

“Shy, quiet Wakasagihime? Look for the biggest bullies in Gensokyo for shelter? That, and 999 other jokes we can tell ourselves,” quipped Marisa. “You’re right about the distance though. Maybe someone took her further away? Maybe the Scarlet Devil Mansion has her, for whatever reason?”

Alice nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe. Hand me a sandwich?”

Marisa unclasped the lid and hummed in pleasure when she saw the contents of the baskets. “Wow, you’ve outdone yourself again. Which type do you want?”

“Give me the ham and cheese with egg. Those are on the left – tuna is in the middle, and on the right are the pork cutlets.”

“Coming right up,” said Marisa cheerfully. She handed a sandwich over to Alice, and took one for herself to munch on. “Did you make these along with the breakfast?”

“I had some of the fillings prepped already in my pantry. Putting them into sandwiches was just something that I could do quickly with the help of my dolls.”

Marisa chortled. “I swear, you and your over-reliance on dolls. But if it means more food for me, then I ain’t complaining.” The witch took another bit of the small sandwich, chewing on it as she examined the magic circle. The light rain continued overhead, splattering on her witch’s hat and cloak.

Then the witch stopped, and frowned.

“Hang on. Alice? You’ve made a mistake. The grammar isn’t right here,” said Marisa, confused.

Before Alice could react, Marisa lightly smudged an area of the circle, and the spell spun into life. Both Alice and Marisa felt the droning pull, a tug as the tracking magic drank from their power and pointed a heading towards the mermaid. Both of their heads whipped around, and Marisa’s eyes widened.

The spell pointed at the picnic basket.

Marisa had always, always been a smart woman. Even now, upon the cusp of her seventieth birthday, her faculties remained as sharp as they have been since her young days of solving mysteries and resolving incidents. Her age had given her experience; her profession had granted her knowledge.

The eating of mermaid flesh was a well-known myth in Japan. The legend of the Yaobikuni, the girl who became immortal after secretly eating from her father’s grisly catch. From then on, she did not age. Disease did not touch her, and neither did the centuries that came. She outlived her family, her friends, her town. Wandering, she would eventually be known as the eight-hundred-year-old nun, but would then live on for millennia more.

The Grassroots network had been threatened, and were therefore divided. The mermaid would have been alone. Someone comfortable with conducting attacks under the Misty Lake could grab her, unnoticed until it was too late. And then…

In a frozen second, Alice could see Marisa make the connections. Their gazes met.

Marisa did not waste time on admonishments. She immediately got onto her knees, bent down and heaved. The old woman dug her wrinkled fingers down the back of her throat, retching out any bit of sandwich she had swallowed. A mess of vomit and half digested food splattered onto the ground. All that Marisa had ate of the sandwich now lay on the grass.

“Alice,” Marisa spat. “How could—”

The witch didn’t catch the right hook from Alice in time. There was no time for subtleties, no time for niceties among magicians. With Marisa reeling from the blow, Alice pushed her over and straddled her at the waist. In her hands, she held another sandwich.

Their gazes met again – Marisa’s foggy from the hit to her head, and Alice’s focused, sharp as a blade. This close, Alice could see Marisa’s wrinkles even closer. Her crows feet at the edge of her eyes, the deep laugh lines from decades of smiles, and the crinkles above her brow. She took in Marisa’s fingers, covered in liverspots – her skin, that had lost their youthful tension and instead sagged on the witch’s bony frame.

Alice hated it all. She forced the sandwich towards Marisa’s mouth, and tried to push it in. The witch struggled, trying to slap her away. But an old woman was never going to be able to overpower a youkai in pure strength. And Alice looked as youthful as ever.

“Alice, wait!” gasped Marisa, slightly muffled. Alice paused, if only for a second.

“For what?” Alice sneered. “For your misguided pride in throwing your life away? For your stupidity, in leaving all of us for nothing but some hangup about being human?”

“We’ve discussed this, Alice –”

“I disagreed then, and I disagreed now!” shrieked Alice. “Patchouli’s a youkai. Byakuren’s basically one as well. I’m one. Why can’t you just take the logical step? Get off your high horse, and, and, and…”

The tears broke. Alice sobbed, crying ugly tears that flowed down her face. She screamed and cried, and with some effort Marisa scrambled away from under her. But gently, like the old friend that Alice knew that Marisa was, the witch laid a hand on Alice’s back.

“Shh. Shhh.”

Alice cried harder. Marisa hugged the youkai magician tightly now, whispering comforting words in her ear. Words that Alice knew that she didn’t deserve. But Marisa was always loyal to a fault. Even when she had murderers, backstabbers and desecrators as her friends, she would stay.

Alice loved and hated her for it.

Marisa sighed, and laughed lightly. “Sometimes, I see myself in the mirror and see myself older and more mature than all the youkai around me. And sometimes like today, I see myself proven right. We’ve gone through this, Alice. I want being human to be my legacy. I want it known that someone with no bloodline or any nonsense could stand up to youkai, and beat them on their own terms. If I just become another youkai? That all goes away. All of my previous accomplishments are filed under the youkai magician Marisa, and all that I’ve done would be looked at as just my climb to being inhuman – or worse, just another conflicts between innumerable youkai. I don’t think I could live with that Alice. I’m sorry, but I really couldn’t.”

Alice sniffled, but said nothing. Marisa coughed, and continued a bit awkwardly.

“And look. I know the Yama personally. Whose to say that I couldn’t nab a good deal with her? I’ve been a good – well, a generally kind of good person. In certain respects, at least. I bet she could swing a reincarnation my way in just a few centuries, and we’ll be able to meet again. You’ll get to go through and get to know my insufferable self from the very beginning again, and hey! This time you might be able to appreciate it more.”

Wiping away her tears, Alice could only sigh out in a ragged breath. “You’re… already planning to be insufferable for your next life.?”

“Eh. Knowing me, it’s practically a guarantee. No amount of memory wiping can get rid of that.”

Taking Marisa’s wrinkled hand in her own, Alice was pulled back onto her own feet. The light rain continued to fall.

“Marisa…” Alice breathed in, and out. “I’m sorry. I truly am. I had to – I couldn’t just—”

Marisa shook her head. “I won’t lie, Alice. You… crossed a line here. I won’t tell the Grassroots Youkai yet, but this whole thing is something that I’d hoped you were above.”

With a sigh, Marisa hugged Alice again, ruffling her hair. “But I’ve known you for too long. I’ll… figure something out, alright? I just need some time to myself to think. And I think that you probably need it too.”

With one last hesitant kiss to Alice’s forehead, Marisa took flight on her broomstick once more. Alice watched as the black and white speck slowly flew away, and thought back to the thunderous speed that Marisa used to be known for in her youth.

And she couldn’t hide the small smile on her face.

Some of the sandwiches held mermaid flesh. But that had only ever been a smokescreen, a way for Marisa to think she was in the clear until it was too late. The “pork and fish broth” miso soup in the morning had been the masterstroke, and Marisa would not notice until she found out about her curious lack of aging. She would stop getting more aches and pains, more wrinkles. By then it’d be years, she would be a full human turned youkai – and her mindset would be changed by her status, for sure.

Reimu was too old and too weak to lay down the law against humans turning into youkai. Her successor was green as grass and could barely take care of Gensokyo even without incidents going on.

Alice was in the clear. She laughed now, in triumph. Sure, Marisa would probably not forgive her for a long, long time. But that was fine, of course.

As a youkai magician, Alice had nothing but time on her hands. And Marisa was worth it.

Managed to squeeze out this short since the deadline was pushed back by another writer, and this small idea hit me. Horror (which this is? Kind of?) is not something I usually write but it was fun trying it out. Thanks for reading, fellas.

Shion Yorigami, embodiment of poverty, squawked in pain as a tree fell on her. She was crushed underneath the weight of the bamboo tree. It trapped her at an awkward angle, her right arm and knee being trapped and slammed under her weight. Her reaction was one of dull disappointment and frustration, no more than one would expect from seeing someone stumble over their shoes on an inconvenient rock. Annoying, but not worth dwelling over. Routine, frankly for her.

Of course, for Shion, living her life, such misfortunes are routine. In the course of this week, she’s skinned her knee twice, fallen into a well, fallen into a sinkhole, fallen into the animal realm, and dropped the really nice ramen she had gotten from Tenshi. She’s used to it. What brings a sigh to her mouth, therefore, is not her injury, or the fact that she is lost in what appears to be an endless sea of bamboo, but the fact that she is alone.

After the blood pools tours had been brought to a sudden stop by Reimu(who Shion half-suspected was motivated by hopes of taking over the business) Jo’on had run off somewhere.Some new get-rich scheme, one which had gotten her in such a frenzy that she’d run off before Shion had a chance to stop her. Tenshi was busy as well. She was trying to appeal her exile, and have the chance to see her parents again.It was a real pain not having her around to neutralise her power.

Shion let her power flow, blue flames enveloping her form. They didn’t hungrily burn the wood like a normal flame might have, but nonetheless, they enveloped the bamboo, causing it to fall apart.

She stood up, dusting herself off, for all the good it would do her in a sackcloth.

It really was a mistake to come here. She’d wanted to take some bamboo home so that she could cook and eat it. But in her excitement, she’d forgotten that the place was known as the “Bamboo Forest of the Lost.”

Getting out of here was reliant on luck. So she’d be around here for a while.

Suddenly, Shion could hear the sounds of combat rumbling through the area. The sound of magic blasting through the areas, and the voices of two women almost certainly talking trash. A spell card battle.

Shion poked her head around a nearby tree to see what was going on.

It was then Shion saw her. That flame-woman, the friend of the tanuki. Just another person who she beat with Jo’on, way back when. She was… a little cantankerous, if Shion remembered clearly, but didn’t leave much of an impression otherwise.

The flame woman was grinning as she fought someone else. A beautiful woman with perfectly maintained black hair, not so much as a split end to be seen. She wore an immaculate pink dress and had a serene smile on her face, contrasting with Mokou’s wild grin.

The black haired woman was the first to declare a spell card

[Divine Treasure! "Jeweled Branch of Hourai -Dreamlike Paradise-"]

But the white haired woman wasn’t long in following

[Hollow Being "Wu"]

Both attacks started off slow at first. A lob of several glowing blue cubes from the girl in the pink dress, a few slow trails of bullets from the one in the red trousers. But soon enough, both attacks sped up, the cubes bursting into a rainbow coloured set of bullets while the trail dispersed in all directions. Neither combatant was able to completely avoid the other’s attacks, both taking a few hits.

Shion couldn’t help but notice. As the white haired girl got hit, as her clothes became increasingly dirty and her hair increasingly unkempt, she started to look like some Shion recognised. The person Shion saw in every puddle before she tripped into it, every river before she fell into it, every mirror before she caused it to crack.

At that moment, Shion Yorigami had a great idea.

Yarou Sato walked through the thicket of bamboo, hoping for some good luck. Most people avoided the Bamboo Forest of the Lost for reasons that should be obvious. Yet, he had chosen to brave it, hoping to find the home base of that medicine seller. Not for the chance of catching the interest of the apothecary(though he certainly wouldn’t mind if she looked his way) but for the chance to learn the secrets of her supplier. If he did so, he had a real chance of making a change; forever transforming the medical knowledge of the human village!

Though that was predicated on him finding his way through the forest first.

‘That was the same tree again, wasn’t it’ he thought to himself as he passed by a bamboo shoot with a gouge in the side, looking as though someone had bitten it.

Suddenly, he heard a rustling. His head snapped towards it, hand reaching down towards the wakizashi at his waist. He couldnt fight very well with it. But whatever youkai was approaching didn’t need to know that.

The rustling of leaves and crunch of twigs continued as the youkai got closer. Then she came into sight.

She was a little on the tall side for a woman, about the same weight as an average man back in the village- Yarou himself included. She wore a slightly dirty and tattered white shirt, its sleeves short, black and charred at the ends. A pair of poofy red trousers and shoes of the same colour completed her outfit. All across her trousers were several brown notes, though Yarou couldn’t read what they said.

Her most eye-catching feature by far, however, was her hair. Long, blue and unkempt, the woman’s wispy hair billowed in the gentle wind. Despite looking as though she had never seen a comb before, Yarou had to admit that having flame-like hair suited a woman who would be known as a phoenix.

Yes, the Phoenix of the bamboo forest- an enigmatic and antisocial, but ultimately benevolent figure. Yarou figured that this was a sign; he should take the chance to get out of the forest now, rather than risk becoming a youkai’s snack.

“Fair lady phoenix!” he called out to the woman

The lady seemed a little taken aback for a moment, as though she hadn’t expected him to address her. Still, she righted herself soon enough, standing up straight and speaking in a proud voice.

“Well met, traveler. Looks like you’ve gotten rather lost here. Shall I escort you out?” she asked imperiously.

Yarou gave a small nod. “Yes, please. I don’t want to get eaten today.”

The phoenix gave him a reassuring grin. “Then, let us go.”

Yarou was fairly certain that the phoenix woman was meant to be a guide out of the forest.

So he was more than a little unsettled that she seemed just as lost as he was! He was pretty sure they'd walked past that chewed up tree at least three more times now!

“Are you sure you know where you are going my lady?” He asked, hoping there was some trick, some sense of direction he wasn’t seeing.

The phoenix gave a charismatic chuckle. “Nothing to worry about. The forest is layered in strong magic. It may look like we’re going in circles, but we’re making progress.”

Yarou nodded at that. Well, he still had some doubts… but the phoenix had been a guide to countless villagers. She had to know what she was doing.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, vertigo overcome him as the ground disappeared underneath his feet. Both he and the phoenix shouted in surprise as they plummeted towards the ground. He could feel the air being driven from his lungs as he smashed against the ground. Next to him, he could hear the phoenix groan and roll in pain.

He was going to die in this forest, wasn’t he?

“Seriously, what are you doing?” the rabbit girl asked. She was short, two white ears protruding from her black hair, and wearing a simple, pink shirt. At the particular moment, she was affixing the pair of them with an unimpressed look.

“We’re finding our way out of the forest, of course.” His guide folded her arms and looked down at the rabbit. Her hair was even messier than before now’ several rocks and branches poking out of it at odd angles. Yarou knew he didn’t look much better though. He certainly didn’t feel better- he was fairly certain that when he next took a shower, his body would resemble a plum with all the bruises he felt.

“Do you know a way out?” Yarou spoke before his “guide” could say anything. With all of the traps she had triggered, he really didn’t want to keep letting her lead!

The rabbit barely gave him a quick once-over before turning her gaze back to his companion.

“Yeah, I know the way out.” she spoke, not turning back towards him “but what are you supposed to be?” she asked the phoenix.

She offered a shaky grin, flexing an unimpressive bicep. “I’m Fujiwara no Mokou! The guide of the forest of the lost.”

The rabbit continued to look unimpressed for a few moments. Suddenly, a sparkle seemed to appear in her eye as she straightened herself up with a smile.

“You’re Fujiwara no Mokou, are you?” she asked cheerfully. “I’m a big fan. I’ll be watching you for a little while, okay? I’m sure we’ll see something wonderful?”

Despite what she had just said, the rabbit suddenly darted forth, snatching the ribbon off the phoenix’s- Mokou’s head and then running off. Mokou gave a yelp of surprise, before chasing after the rabbit girl. Both of them rushed into the dense growth of the Bamboo Forest.

Yarou had to make a split-second decision- follow the two or try to make his way on his own. Being honest to himself, he was tempted to go off on his own- Mokou didn’t actually seem to know the way out of the forest. Even if she was just having a bad day, she was definitely pulling him into it as well!

On the other… he was at least fairly confident that the phoenix at least had some sort of magical ability. His wakizashi could probably slash one youkai if he got enough of a jump on one, but he had no illusions on what would happen if a youkai got the jump on him- or if he encountered more than one youkai at a time.

Concern for safety ultimately won out, as he tore after the two women.

Shion panted, deep breaths pulling the air back into her body. She wasn’t a biological organism, so he didn’t need oxygen, per se, and yet she still got winded when she exerted herself too much. If Jo’on were here, she’d be laughing at her lack of endurance… Honestly, Tenshi would poke fun at her too, if a little bit more lightly.

Well, they would poke fun at Shion Yorigami. Would they poke fun at Fujiwara no Mokou?

Yes, they probably would actually. Those two had the ridiculous strength needed to get away with being so brazen. Shion could only do so when she was safely behind them…

Tewi turned back around to her, giving her an impish grin.

“Here you go!” she said, offering Shion her bow back. The Simple and Frugal Poverty God was quick to grab it back- it was one of the few possessions she’d managed to keep for more than a few years. She’d had to sell most of her others to pay for her debts over the years. Well, that or her bad luck destroyed them, be it through flooding or, once, avalanche of asbestos.

Shion was just glad she couldn’t get cancer. If she could have afforded lawyers, that last one would have had her set for a few lifetimes, but alas.

Behind her, she could hear the guy she’d offered to guide catching up to them. Honestly, she’d kind of forgotten about him. He had one of those faces- the type she’d just glance over whether she were in Yokohama or the Human Village. He panted for a moment, before shouting out.

“It’s the village! We’ve made it back!”

Shion looked up. It was far in the distance, the gloom of the night making it harder to make out, but the human village could be seen off in the distance.

It still took quite a few minutes to get to the village proper, enough so that the first lights of dawn were starting to rise by the time their party had gotten to the gate.

Shion needed to hurry. The chance of her getting a hot bed and warm food tonight was dependent on her not being recognised, after all!

A man stood in front of the gates, dressed in white and red robes. He had long, purple hair cascading down in a ponytail behind him. Shion hoped he wasn’t too close with Reimu.

He held a hand up, before asking a question.

“Who’s there?”

‘Okay, so not a he then’ Shion noted to herself.

“It’s me, Yarou. I got lost in those woods, so I ended up coming back here.” The villager man explained.

Meira nodded. “Well, it’s good that you’re back safely. Who’s this then?” She asked, jabbing a finger at Shion.

“I’m Fujiwara no Mokou. I found this man in the forest, and I accompanied him back.”

Meira raised an eyebrow at that.

“She with you?” she asked Yarou.

“I guess? We both came from the forest together. She was not a very good guide though”

Meira gave a grunt of acknowledgement. Then she turned back to Shion, putting a palm on her sword.

“So, you claim to be Fujiwara no Mokou. But from everything I’ve heard, she has white hair. I can’t help but notice that you don’t.” the samurai growled out.

“Oh, it’s simple. I just dyed my hair.” Shion replied. She’d been hoping to get her hands on some white hair dye, but -of course- she’d had no luck there.

Meira was unimpressed by her answer, brow managing to get even more furrowed than it had been before.

“Oh, come on, Meira.” Yarou spoke out. “It’s too early for all of this. Even if she’s actually a youkai or something, that fox woman comes by and struts about like she owns the place. Not like one more will do much.”

Meira seemed to take that into account, tilting her head a little.

“Well, maybe, but even still-”

“Heey, Meira!” a man’s voice rang out, interrupting whatever Meira was about to say. It had a deep timbre, which made for quite a contrast once he came into view and Shion could see his soft features and long hair. She probably wouldn’t have mistaken him for a woman the same way she’d mistaken Meira for a man, but he was what Jo’on would have called a “prettyboy.”

He ran up to Meira, a bouquet in one hand and a picnic basket in the other.

“Meira. I was looking at some lovely wildflowers, and their fierce beauty reminded me of you.” The man said, offering up the bouquet of purple and white flowers.

Meira sighed, putting a hand on her face.

“You know what? I’m just going to hope letting you in is going to be less of a headache than this.” She said to Shion and Yarou.

Shion held back a gasp. Was this good luck? Were good things happening to her?

Well, she’d grasp it while she could.

The next morning, Shion got to sleep in for once. Her bed had gotten a serious bedbug infestation, and she’d been bitten a few dozen times, but that was fine. She’d gotten to sleep in a bed! With a duvet, even! It was a privilege she usually only got when relying on Jo’on or Tenshi’s largesse. The last time she’d gotten to sleep in a proper bed without relying on one of them was… forty years ago? Fifty?

She eventually managed to roll out of bed. The sun was high up in the sky, making it perhaps a few hours before midday. She should probably out of the village. Shion knew that her impersonation wouldn’t last in the daytime, when the differences between her and Mokou were more apparent. As such, she rushed out of the inn, past the befuddled innkeeper, and into the street.

In her haste though, she bumped into someone, and got knocked on her rear. A woman in a blue-dress, of average height with white hair and a boxy hat. She took the impact better than Shion, barely having to take a step back.

“My, are you-” she started, freezing once she got a good look at Shion.

“Man, Keine.” A tough-sounding woman’s voice rang out from next to the white haired woman. “She totally ran into-” Mokou poked her head out as well, turning to look at Shion before freezing.

“Are those my clothes?”

Ah. That wasn’t good.

Shion was running.

Undying "Fire Bird -Feng Wing Ascension-"

Shion was running and trying to dodge the waves of attacks from the angry phoenix behind her. They had left the human village, Mokou having literally thrown her clear out of the area and then chasing her for a few miles following that.

Mokou let go of her spellcards, suddenly speeding up and reaching into her pocket and pulling out several amulets.

Shion wasn’t quite sure what possessed her at that moment. Maybe it was pride. Maybe she’d gone into a delusion and thought she really was Fujiwara no Mokou.

But rather than keep running, as she usually would without Jo’on or Tenshi around, she chose to meet that challenge head-on. Despite knowing that to fight was to lose, she chose to fight anyway.

Shion reached into her pocket, gathering some of the eviction notices she’d gotten over the years.

Cursed Talisman "Indiscriminate Ignition Cards"

Cursed Notice “Indiscriminate Eviction Letters”[b]

Mokou’s talismans and Shion’s eviction notices clashed in the air, exploding in a mixture of red and blue fire. Shion grit her teeth and redoubled her focus, throwing wads of notices to match Mokou’s clusters of amulets. As their projectiles continued to clash, flames began to rage around them. Amazingly enough, they both ran out ammunition at around the same time.

Mokou recovered from her surprise first, a burst of flame from the hands sending her rocketing forward, clotheslining Shion and sending her rolling through the dirt

Shion clutched her fist and, imitating what her sister would do when mugging people, launched a cross into Mokou’s jaw. The phoenix’s head rocked backwards, but she wasn’t stunned, staggering Shion with a low kick before spiking her head with a fiery haymaker.

Not finished with her offense, Mokou quickly declared a spell card

Undying "'South Wind, Clear Sky' Soaring Kick"

Mokou backflipped, her foot catching Shion’s jaw before ascending, sending an explosive dive kick right into Shion’s jaw, sending her flying and skittering across the floor.

Shion groaned in pain, feeling her legs protest as she got to her knees. Mokou walked towards her, a little ruffled, but not nearly as damaged as Shion had been.

She made one last attack, one last desperate attempt. She used the remnants of her Urban Legend, not even an ember of power, but rather an ash of one, and leapt at the real phoenix. Somehow- if she were anyone else, she would attribute it to luck- it was successful, Shion jumping into the body of her opponent.

She took a few moments to marvel at it, the well-developed muscles and lovely skin being quite a contrast to her own thin stature and persistent blackheads. She let a grin cross her face. She’d been pretending to be someone else, but now, she had the chance to really take a walk in someone else’s shoes.

Yet, just as she was about to celebrate her victory, she felt it. A slight warmth. Then a strong heat. Then-

A scream of pain ripped through the area as Shion-in Mokou’s body- doubled over. She felt the flames burning, not across her skin or bones, but deep, deep within her soul itself.

Shion felt the flames within her very essence- how was Mokou herself even enduring this? She tried to endure, force herself to outlast her opponent, but as she felt the sting of tears in her eyes, she was forced to let go of her perfect possession, rematerialising and sprawling herself on the ground.

Standing up above her, she could see Mokou start to stand up. She was panting as well, sweat pouring down her forehead. But she kept on a slight smile, which shifted to a victorious smirk as she observed Shion on the ground before her.

“Heh. After dealing with your nonsense and that Mizuchi chick, I got to thinking about how to counter possession.” She reached one hand up to sweat the sweat from her brow. “Glad you gave me a chance to try it!”

Shion managed to push herself up to her knees. But when she tried to stand, she faltered and fell bonelessly to the ground. Instead, she rolled back onto her back to ask Mokou a question. “How did you do that?”

“Oh, I just figured out a way to set my soul on fire” Mokou shrugged casually.

“What! You’ll kill yourself!” Shion shouted.

Mokou just gave her a stare. It reminded Shion of one of Reimu’s stares, back when she was at her shrine. The “are-you-stupid” stare.

Shion took a moment to puzzle it out. She knew that Mokou was known as “the phoenix” and during that fight with Kaguya, she had taken plenty of fatal hits- even blown herself up at one point. So Shion had figured she had some sort of power of self-healing. But even then, with physical immortals, they still had vulnerable minds and spirits. So a soul-destroying attack would still send them to the afterlife. That had to mean-

“You can’t be killed, even by attacks to your soul?” Shion asked, pulling herself into a sitting position.

“Guess you don’t know. I’m a Hourai Immortal. Whether it’s my body, mind or soul, nothing can kill me.” Mokou said. Shion couldn’t help but notice that it wasn’t with the pride or arrogance of most immortals. It was simply a statement of fact.

Shion just sighed at that. Of course she would manage to pick a fight with someone that didn’t have to fear any injury whatsoever. As she internally whined about her bad luck, Mokou sat down next to her, legs crossed.

“Why’d you steal my stuff anyway?” Mokou asked.

“I don’t really know. I guess I just saw that we look kind of alike, and yet…” Shion trailed off.

“And yet?”

“And yet, you lead such a different life to me. When people see you, they’re happy. I just wish it was like that for me.” Shion said, so earnestly that she even surprised herself.

Mokou tilted her head. “Well, don’t you have that sister of yours? And the celestial girl, they like you, right?”

“Tenshi does seem to like me, yes. Jo’on…” Shion’s mind was cast back to the end of the Perfect Possession incident, where Jo’on had called her a, ‘gloomy, impoverished miser who can’t do anything on her own.’ It wasn’t untrue, but Jo’on shouldn’t have said it anyway- especially not to strangers.

“Jo’on cares about me in her own way.” Shion concluded simply. Her younger sister did care about her, ultimately, but wasn’t much for displays of affection.

“Well, that’s two people that like you. That’s not too bad.” Mokou said in response.

“But when I’m not with those two, I can’t do anything! I can’t win a fight, I can’t earn money, I have to live off alms and acts of kindness!” Shion ranted.
Mokou put a hand on her head. “Look, I’m not good at this emotional crap, but back there, in the fight we just had? When you turned back and actually started fighting me, I was impressed. Last time, you just hid behind your sister, but you showed me you had guts this time.”

“I still lost.” Shion pointed out.

“Yeah, but that’s just because I’m strong.” Mokou shrugged, before standing up. “I’ve been in plenty of fights you know? How many have you been in solo?”

Mokou’s question gave Shion pause. The human inferno nodded at that, her point proven.

“... I wanted to sleep somewhere warm” Shion confessed.

“If you had just asked, I probably woulda let you stay in the cabin. Not like I have much money to lose, even with the Yakitori stand.” Mokou countered.

There was silence then, nothing but the sound of the wind in both of their ears.

Eventually, Mokou stood up, breaking the silence.

“Alright, good talk. If you’re ever up for round two, just tell me.” She said, before slowly disappearing from view.

Shion stared at the sky.

Another fight would mean another loss.

Yet, somehow, she wanted a rematch regardless.

Tewi Inaba watched on in slight disappointment. Next to her was a bucket of small carrots which she had been nibbling from while observing Shion. After all that work, they were just going to hash it out, maybe even become friends? She’d expected explosions! Fury! Excitement!

Leading that guy out of the forest had just been her doing her duty. While the human dying from exhaustion or whatever wouldn’t have technically broken the rules of Gensokyo, the gap hag would still give her grief for it. Eirin and Kaguya would be more polite about it, but having a dead human nearby would draw more attention than they’d like.

Still, imbuing that obvious phony with enough good luck to last one night had been on her own initiative. Patially, it had been a matter of pity; for all that Shion Yorigami did not recognise her, she recognised Shion Yorigami, and she had some pity for her. But she had also acted in hopes that Shion would stay in the human village long enough to get caught by Mokou, who she knew would be there to visit Keine. It had worked, even! But Mokou had chosen to be a weirdo and get buddy-buddy with her imposter.

Tewi felt annoyed that she'd waited all night for this. She'd snuck off while they were talking to that samurai girl and spent the night hiding in an attic! If she knew Mokou was just going to let it go, she'd have headed back to Eientei.

Honestly, some people were almost impossible to understand.

Tewi scratched her chin, before grinning and hopping off back to Eientei.

Time to see how Kaguya would deal with her rival getting a new rival of her own. Either the princess would get her something nice or Shion Yorigami would soon find herself in Kaguya's crosshairs.

Either way, Tewi would get her entertainment.

Accidentally cut this part from >>3008 have it as a short extra part of sorts.

[art source: https://x.com/shihou_1/status/1280255267804835840/photo/2 ]

In the cold of the night, in the heat of the torches; tassels flowing like wind to the beat of the drums. On the stage before the endless lightless mountain forest, Sanae Kochiya danced for the pleasure of the gods. Bell-staff jingling in hand, she whirled and twirled and leapt, and begged the gods of old to return to descend from the heavens.

To return to this shrine, to this land.

To return to her.

She was not young anymore. Every stomp, every leap, every swing, she knew she would feel in the morning. The white firelight burned her eyes. It would take an age to get the smell of smoke out of even her short hair.

“Return to us,” she whispered, between gasping breaths.

“Return to me!”

The crowd watched her closely, and she watched them. She saw the lights of camera phones and one or two heads bowed, with her in prayer.

She kept whirling. Perhaps this time, perhaps if she did it right, it really would call the gods back. She kept dancing. Whirling, dancing, leaping, dancing–bells jingling, ribbons trailing–

And then it was over. And the world still felt as grey as it had on that day.

She visited their graves afterwards. Kanako Yasaka. Suwako Moriya. A little pillar of stone, all that was left of them in this world. She knelt and prayed and lit incense and wondered how so much time had disappeared.

Almost twenty years since that day. The seventeenth day of the eighth month of Heisei nineteen. The day her mothers died, and the gods went away; the world turned grey.

She heard it before she saw it. Hissing. The voices of eight thousand snakes, from behind her, from before, from all around. And then she saw the flash of burial-robe white. Coming over the graves and up the paths, slithering and climbing like eight million flowing rivers, with their red mouths wide. Plants withered in their wake, their drooling venom ate even through stone.

They were upon her before she could even blink. Curling round her limbs, holding her to the ground. Ice-cold to the touch, reeking of deaths she could barely imagine. She opened her mouth to scream–a terrible mistake. Her jaw strained, the corners of her mouth threatened to tear. One of the snakes was forcing its huge body down her throat, haltingly, shoving in starts and stops. Its pulsing heartbeat reverberated in her blood, running cold.

Sanae stopped breathing.

Her vision went white.

Everything went white. The light burned her eyes. The cold wind bit her skin.

It carried with it hope, tinged with a colour that she had imagined when she was young. The secret colour of the ever-after, which was carried on the wind and the waves and the living earth, and only the holy could see.

There was a god standing over her. She was a young woman with dazzling hair in a green colour she imagined a spring breeze might have if it were visible. It took Sanae a moment to recognise herself without the crow's feet and the laughter lines, but she saw the god’s face for what it was in a moment. Sanae Kochiya who had never grown old, who had never stopped dying her hair… no, who had never needed dye at all. Sanae Kochiya who the gods still spoke to.

She felt an immense feeling of warmth blossom in her heart. She felt her eyes grow heavier than all the stars in the sky together. A soft, soft hand brushed against her cheek, while another lifted her head into the lap of the god.

The voice of heaven, so sweet, spoke to her.

The snakes would not be the last or least of it. There was more and worse to come, and it would keep coming. All the horrors of the night and all the gods of violence would descend on her until either she broke, or shone again like stars.

But it was okay, the voice of heaven said. If she kept faith in her heart, if she prayed to the gods she knew to be true, they would deliver her.

If she sacrificed to their glory.

She tried to ask, how could she do that? She was sick, so terribly sick. She could barely even still make the motions of faith. The gods were gone. How could she possibly…

But her eyes fell closed, and she fell asleep.

She did not know how she made it home from there, but stumbling, she saw it, that hollow shrine. She slid open the doors of the residential hall, and all but fell through them.

She stayed on her feet. Prisoner to her destination, she walked down the hall. She opened door after door and kept going. The living room, the kitchen, her bedroom, one after another the rooms of the house meandered past. All the while, a feeling of oppressive heat unsuited to the winter built. Sweat began to trickle from her brow.

She began to wander through rooms she had not even remembered the house had. Old storage rooms filled with childhood toys. Little robots, a simple watch she had made one day at the clockmaking museum, video game consoles. Strange, but she could swear that she could hear the watch ticking. What was she searching for? She knew she was searching for something.

And then it fluttered past her ear. A butterfly, long and thin, red winged, painted with white lotus flower patterns--the most beautiful creature she had seen in her life.

Seventeen years ago, in a world of dreams, Sanae Kochiya fell in love at first sight. Her world exploded with light and violence. There was nothing else for her, no destiny but that red-white fate.

She tumbled to the ground in a space she was sure that her shrine had never had. Wood planks stretched out in every direction, completely empty, but spotted with pillars. A Heian manor with nothing in it. Beyond the edges of the house, un-shuttered, a dry garden extended to the horizon, gravel waves tossing about stone ships and breaking upon stone leviathans.

And then the curtains and screens swung into place around. Every one of them a burning fire. Sour smoke filled the air--sour smoke had already filled the air, as surely as she had been feeling the heat of the fire from the moment she entered.

A shape stepped out of the fire.

She saw the god for what she was. Squat and silver-haired, clad in white suikan, tapping tapping tapping her fingers together and making her iron rings clack and ring–glowing with that ever-after colour. Somehow, she knew this was the aspect of the god on the mountain that they called Mononobe no Moriya.

“Hark!” the god demanded, and she rose to her knees.

“Thou hast gone astray! Thee, faithless shrine maiden, and thou, corrupt city! Though ’t pain me to my soul to say ’t, those heretics of the Buddha were just in their observation that the world hath entered a degenerate latter day. The cure be the same for both pestilences! The fire taketh all, and scourgeth the pest from the earth!”

She slammed her foot down, and the flames began to roar.

“Repent, ye insuperably polluted!” she declared, and vanished into the smoke.

Sanae was too exhausted to protest, or to resist. She lay there, and felt the fire lick at her skin. She felt it devour her flesh, and did not have the energy to scream. She saw no more, for her eyes boiled away to uselessness. She burnt so bright, and her bones turned to ash.

She woke up amid the blackened bones of her childhood home, clutching a photo album to her chest.

She heard the hissing surround her.

The days grew long under the winter sun, and that was the least of the strangeness of that year. Every day, somewhen, somewhere, she saw that butterfly. Its hold on her heart did not weaken, and she chased it ‘til her feet bled. The omiwatari returned that year, larger and bolder than ever; random, also, no longer following the path across the lake that they had since time immemorial. The butterfly led her on many a merry chase, into the depths of the wilting forests, down the rushing riverbanks. All the food was falling to rot; centipedes in numbers unimaginable crawled out of the refuse, and from the corpses of those who died in those days. Sanae knew, deep in her ragged heart of hearts, that she needed to catch that butterfly, even if it meant throwing bricks through windows to follow it wherever it went. Landslides devastated nearly every district; the flooding rivers washed away the rest. Sanae lost count of how many times her skin had been broken open in her chase; as long as muscle and bone still moved, she didn’t care if every barbed wire in the city tasted her blood. Every night she stayed somewhere different; every night a different hotel burned down (then the abandoned apartments and houses, then the warehouses, soon even the alleys). The sky at dawn glowed with a colour that no one could name (no one except her).

Whenever she slept, she dreamt of paradise, of a holier her and a lotus butterfly. Of an iron giant and a stone dog. Of a mother placid and forgiving as clay, of a mother as tempestuous as all twelve quarters of the wind together. Of a girl shining with the light of newborn suns, and rabbits falling from the moon. She dreamed of speaking to the butterfly, taking tea with her, of longing for her lips, her black hair, her bony body.

She woke up to less city every day. All the food was going to rot. Houses and towers collapsed into the lake. Centipedes crawled from every corner. People fled the curses of the gods, and the city grew quiet, so quiet you could always hear the ticking of the clocks for which the Oriental Switzerland had once been famous… and the hissing of snakes.

One time Sanae saw a visitor from the land of her dreams, a woman from the other side of the world - a brown-furred woman clad in leaf-green, who smoked like a steam train - meander by and shake her head disapprovingly. Sanae’s hopeless heart could not tell what that meant.

She woke up in a pool of blood. All around her, the snakes were tearing chunks out of bodies. She felt many thousands of centipede legs clamber against her skin. Her breath didn’t even quicken.

She brushed them off and climbed to her feet. There was not a single thought left in her mind, except the butterfly. She knew it was there, somewhere. Always just out of reach. But it would tire one day. She would overcome it. That was the way of humans. She clenched her fists, digging her nails in until her palms bled.

It helped her keep focus. It kept the ticking clocks, growing ever louder, from overpowering her ears.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

She climbed out onto the open street, ruptured by earthquakes, and stared out at the lake. She saw a flash of red and white and, not knowing if it was snake or butterfly, set out.

The ice trembled and cracked and burst beneath her feet, but she followed the omiwatari and payed no heed. It was a long and difficult walk to the centre of the lake, but she felt no pain. She… felt nothing. She was not even shivering despite the biting cold.

The butterfly fluttered down, hovered right before her very face.

She reached out to it.

There was a deafening roar. The ice exploded in every direction, and Sanae was flung away. She slammed into the ice, and thanked the gods that it did not break even as she heard her own bones snap, even as she bounced and fell and bounced and fell again.

A shadow, not black but beyond colour, fell across her.

The body of a mighty god rose from the water to loom above the lake. A great whale, or some kind of unimaginably vast fish, with a scaled hide like rocks encrusted with coral and barnacles. Too large for these small waters, this was a deity of the great sea… this was some aspect of Yasakatome, whose father was the three Wadatsumi gods. Faintly, Sanae recalled the name of another sea god, Azumi no Isora, who hid his leviathan body on the ocean floor in shame and could be called out only by dance. Another god burnt by the Yamato sun. Was this some Yasakatome that had been identified with Isora?

One eye, larger than the whole of the Moriya Shrine even at its peak, transfixed her. Sanae saw nothing reflected, even though it shone like a jewel under the sunlight.

Yasakatome's lips parted, and a sound that was at once rumbling and keening reverberated through Sanae's body, so strong it felt like she might shake apart at the seams.

She knew what Yasakatome was saying without having to hear a single coherent word.

The god was demanding sacrifice. The gods never asked much. A donation to the shrine here and there, that their rituals might continue. A few hundred yen for a charm, that the shrine might be able to continue to make them and the god might continue to protect. That was all.

She felt the vibrations bounce through her. She felt her ribs, which seemed about to shatter. She felt her heart, which seemed as though it were being pushed up out her chest.

She could still hear the ticking clocks.

Tick. Tock.

Sanae forced herself to her feet, and found that she did not even feel her broken bones. Then she threw herself down again in front of Yasakatome. She offered herself as sacrifice. She poured all her tears into the lake, to go to the gods below. If she only had a book of matches, she would have set fire to her body, that the gods above could collect their offering from the smoke.

Instead she waited for Yasakatome’s vast jaws to close around her.

No such thing ever came. Only the snakes, heralded by hissing. She dragged her body away before they could begin their feast.

One day she found herself in the cosmetics section of an abandoned Don Quijote, and she saw something there that distracted her even from the lotus butterfly.

Her scratched and scarred hands seized on a box of green hair dye unwilled, as if possessed. A large, strong hand seized her wrist.

Take-Minakata stood beside her, tall and broad-shouldered as the warlike prince of the Earthly Gods ought to be. She held, instead of a sword, a long wisteria branch. Her purple hair swayed in the breeze.

Sanae bowed her head, perhaps out of respect, perhaps so that she didn't have to see whatever expression sat in the god's eyes, twins to her mother's.

“I’m dreaming, aren't I?” She asked.

“Of course,” replied Take-Minakata.

“Oh, thank goodness. None of this is real.”

“Don’t be stupid. Don't you know? The butterfly knows.”

Sanae bowed her head deeper. Vines, flowering in the secret colour, crept around around her body, lifted her from the ground. She heard hissing in the distance.

She saw rust creep up her body from wherever the long green fingers touched. Slowly, surely, her skin turned mottled red-orange-brown. Her fingers grew stiff, her mouth ceased to open. As her eyes rusted over, she saw Take-Minakata breathe deeply, and flow into a fighting stance.

(But even though her ears were sealed, she could still hear the tock of the clocks)

Then she felt the fist connect, and she shattered into a million pieces.

Sanae sat in the ashes of the shrine and held the charred, but whole, shintai in her hands. Across the table sat a toad the size of a god’s clenched fist. Three poisons in three shades of the ever-after colour sweated off of it and burnt a ring in the ground around it.

Sanae bowed her head.

The snakes, quiet as the grave, gathered around them.

“Ribbit,” it said, louder than clock tower bells.

Sanae ascended the stage. Sanae stood atop the whole world. Far below, the lake spread out until it mingled with the roots of the mountains. Snakes gathered around her. The hissing tormented her ears, sharp and sibilant, it made her brain burn. It was like a knife being dragged across a chalkboard.

She could barely hear it over the chime of a grandfather clock, dividing one hour from the next in twelve booming bell-tolls.

She let them crawl across her, wrapping around her body. She felt the cold scales and death-smell constrict around her limbs, blindfold her eyes. She cared not. As if the snakes were not there… as if she could not feel their fangs piercing her skin, feel the venom beginning to flow, not yet in her blood… she raised one leg off the ground. And she danced. Slow, at first, wide, round twirling motions. Like the lakeshore on a calm day.

She remembered now. She had had the poison in her veins from the day she was born. It was in her blood, and if someone cut her, snake venom would she bleed.

She remembered now. All she needed to do was pray, and the venom would be expelled. She was a miracle; miracles were hers. There was a god called Sanae Kochiya. She wasn't her, but she would answer her prayers.

She remembered now. There was no need to pursue the butterfly. She was born a god, born a servant of the gods, born a master of the gods. All she needed was a dance, and she could call them to her.

She danced. Wilder now, faster, leaping and whirling. Like the storm winds. Bells jingled; ribbons flew. The storm broke. Rain fell upon her, soaked her to the bone

She called out the name of the first god. Sanae Kochiya answered her prayers, and the wind tore the snakes away to somewhere beyond the horizon.

She called out the name of the second god. The god of boundaries, of definitions, the god who had named the world, who had made the world from the monad. She called out the name of the butterfly, which she had seen in her dreams.

Between Reimu Hakurei and the butterfly there was never a distinction.

All clocks stopped. Silence and sound, undivided, ruled.

Sanae, inspirited by a nameless god from a time long gone by, opened her eyes to a true world.

All distinction had gone away. She saw the unity of all things.

It could never be explained. To explain is to name, to distinguish, to divide. What Sanae saw was a world with all distinction stripped away, seen for the monad it was.

But here is a try; what she might have said later, desperately grasping for names that could box up the noumenon behind the phenomena of noumena so that she could give it to another.

She saw all the colours of the rainbow and more, and she saw that they had no names, no distinctions. Where did red end, and orange begin? Could anyone say? Anyone could say. Could anyone tell the truth? There was no truth to tell.

A violet by any other name, said a many-eyed god floating somewhere just out of sight, is not a violet.

She saw that the lake was not water and never ended. The lake was a living thing, a thriving body of not only water, but plants and animals and fish and humans.

The lake extended from the mountains, from the rivers that ran down. Who could say where river ended and lake began? Anyone could. Who could say it truly? And water from the rivers and lake were drank up by the people of Suwa, becoming part of them, and they became part of the lake. It fed the fields and the forests. The food that the people of Suwa ate, that was made from the lake, and from seeds from afar. Suwa City relied on electricity--that too came from the water, was the water. But the electric grid was also the blood and sweat of countless workers, who had built it. The blood and sweat of countless miners, who had brought the copper into the sunlight. Countless factory workers and civic planners and–

To make a watch, you needed more than a watchmaker and a silver chain. You needed hundreds years of watchmaking, an unbroken chain of students surpassing teachers. You needed gears. For gears you needed steel, and you needed manufacturers. You needed another long history, and you needed the tools, which needed steel. For steel, you needed millenia of blacksmiths learning to hammer, and another set of tools needing another set of materials and craftsmen. You needed smelters; you needed trucks and drivers to get the ore from the mines to the smelters. You needed more steel and you needed aluminium and rubber and gasoline and more. You needed miners, and they needed tools. And all along this chain, countless human beings needed food; that needed an abyss of time beyond measure to evolve, wild and guided both; that needed farmers and tools. All of that needed a society to organise it, to support things like specialisation that made all those centuries of progress possible, to create the infrastructure that tied all these disparate industries together. The ticking of the clock was the sum of eighty-eight million tiny miracles, as improbable as eighty-eight million guest stars.

It all extended into infinity. The world never began and never ended.

That was something just barely more than nothing like what she experienced.

And then the Hakurei left her, and she woke up cradled in the arms of the trees, shouldered on the tall backs of the mountains. She woke up with the sun shining in her face, and her body in the canopy's shadows. She woke up staring out over the mountainside down to the Sea of Suwa.

She woke up with the world shining in her eyes.

She woke up seeing the bodies of the gods, not ephemeral, not beyond in the heavens, but heavy and physical in the world. A mighty lake; tall tall mountains. Vast forests; gentle breezes. Beautiful words and elegant dances. Flesh; bone.

How many gods in the Suwa Grand Shrine? How many gods in the Moriya Shrine? How many gods in the lake? How many gods on the mountain? How many gods in Suwa? How many gods in the world?

God of the wind and rain - had she always been? God of the mountain and lake - whose myth had that been first? Lord of the mishaguji, master of the mishaguji's king. Interloper, ever-there. Daughter of the ocean, son of man. A priestess, calling the gods until she was known as one of their faces. In time, distinctions wore away. Who was the god that ruled Suwa of old?

Sanae breathed out, and from her breath sprung a giant toad. Sanae breathed out a horde of snakes. She breathed, and out sprang a war god. And a leviathan. A purifier.

Her mothers smiled at her, and she knew that she had done well.

She climbed down from the tree, and collected from each of the gathered gods a mask, a face. She revoked their names, their distinctions.

Then careworn, tired, Sanae with the short black hair, took off her face--gave up her name. And the god with long hair the colour of the ever-after stepped out of the other side of the world and toward the lake her body.

Okuu wasn't sulking. This was an important point. She was just disappointed, in a mature and responsible way, that she wasn't allowed to go to the party. It was gonna be a huge party, pretty much everyone was going to be there, she'd even gotten an invite... and she had to stay to mind the Hell of Blazing Fires.

She kicked a corpse into the fire, watching as the hell flared up from it. She wanted to find out what this hollow weenie thing was! Stupid corpse duty. Stupid responsibilities. Stupid Satori-

"Hi Okuu!"

Okuu eep'd, jumping into the air as she spun around. The figure was literally wrapped in cloth bandages from head to toe. Only the third eye and hints of pink hair peeking out showed their identity, which, uh...

"I wasn't thinking anything!" she pleaded, then stopped as she thought of something more important. "Wait, what happened?! Are you hurt?"

Like, really badly hurt?! Even her third eye was covered! She didn't fall into the hell of blazing fires, did she? Okuu had been paying attention... mostly.

Satori giggled, a happy, high-pitched sound. "It's a costume, Okuu. Do I make a good mummy?"

The bandage-wrapping was even and thorough. Aside from the occasional hint of pink hair and a small gap for the eyes, there was no skin showing. Even her third-eye and the veins connecting it were completely covered.

"You make a great mom!" Okuu said loyally.

"You're adorable." Satori declared, patting her head. "Remember to tell me that again after the party, okay?"

"Okay?" Okuu's brow scrunched up as she tried to figure out that one. Wait, she had a more important thing! "Uh, Satori... could I go to the party too?"

"Aren't you down here being responsible?" Satori asked, petting her more affectionately. Okuu nodded, closing her eyes and leaning into it.

"Yes! But... maybe I could be responsible... at the party?"

The petting stopped, and Okuu opened her eyes to see Satori crossing her arms, tapping her foot as she watched the hell raven. Okuu really wished she could see her face behind all those bandages.

"You really want to go, don't you?" Satori prompted.

Okuu unleashed her secret weapon. Not the nuclear one, the power of looking really, really sad. "Please?"

"Aw, poor Okuu." Satori sighed, ruffling her hair. "Alright. But if anyone asks, this is Koishi's fault. Understood?"

Okuu jumped for joy, rushing forwards to give Satori a big hug and accidentally knocking the rest of the corpses into the fire. "Thanks, Satori! Come on, let's go!"

She let go of the (slightly squished) Satori, and was about to take off when Satori spoke.

"Wait!" Satori commanded, and Okuu froze. "Okuu, it's a costume party! Who are you going to go as?"

Ooh, she knew this one! "The Yatagarasu!"

Satori dragged a hand down her face. "Okuu..."

"Uh, a hell-raven?"

"Okuu, the point is to go as something you're not."

Something she wasn't... "I could go as... Satori?"

Satori laughed. "I've got that one covered."

Okuu frowned, thinking hard. "Koishi then?"

"No, you don't-" Satori paused, considering it. "Actually... that might work. It would be entertaining, and I do have some spare clothes lying around."

"So can I do it?"

"You know what, yeah. I think it's a great idea!" Satori said. "Come on, let's get you dressed!"

Satori raced off to Chireiden, and Okuu was about to follow, when she remembered Orin would be wondering where she was. She should leave her a note or something... oh, she had it! Firing up her arm cannon, she took aim.

GOING TO PARTY!!!

Okuu looked at the message she'd burned into the stone. It didn't seem quite right... there was something missing. On second thought, she added a bit more below it.

BLAME KOISHI!

There, that'd do it! She'd left a message to Orin on where she'd be, and she'd followed Satori's instructions on whose fault it was! Responsible!

... wait, if she was pretending to be Koishi, does that mean she'd get the blame?!

The Scarlet Devil Mansion looked all spooky! Or at least, the outside did, she couldn't see the building through the thick red fog. Well, the outer wall was all covered with cobwebs, with colored crystals in the bricks glowing all creepy-like! And around the entrance were a bunch of stone gargoyles, crouched like they were about to pounce!

It reminded her of playing with Orin, actually... hopefully she'd come too!

Still, her costume was great! They'd had to cut some wing slits into one of Koishi's dresses, but it mostly fit! Sure, it was a little small around the chest (something Satori had seemed kinda grumpy about), but she'd been able to squeeze into it, and the hat was really comfy when she wasn't flying. The younger sister even had a collection of hair dye Satori had used to make her hair look green! Or at least greener; Satori explained it didn't really take well on her black hair. Still, it was obvious she was supposed to be Koishi, all she had to do was act cheerful! Which she was good at!

She was about to walk in through the gate when she hesitated. Right, Satori had asked her to enter real slowly, looking around a lot, like the decorations were really cool. Which was weird, because wasn't that the kinda thing you asked when they weren't that good and you were just trying to be nice? But these were pretty cool! Or... maybe she thought some nuclear energy would be cooler? Okuu hummed, looking at the crystals again. Sure, the crystals were kinda ommy-nus, or whatever, but it just wasn't like the yellowish tinge you got from a good lava flow. The red mist was neat though. Maybe she could get some for the hell of blazing fires later!

Caught up in her own thoughts, staring at the wall, Okuu didn't see one of the gargoyles start moving. Stealthily, slowly, it creeped up behind her, stone claws raised... itself heedless of the second figure that was suddenly behind it.

"Slacking off again, Meiling?"

The gargoyle jumped in the air with a yelp, spinning around with her hands raised in appeasement and an explanation on her lips... only to see a satori in a mummy costume. Meiling boggled, opening the hood of her gargoyle costume to more comfortably stare at her.

"You're not Sakuya!"

"I've been practicing my impressions," Satori chuckled gently. "But in all seriousness, isn't that a good thing for you?"

Meiling shuffled, pulling her hair free of the costume's hood. "Yeah, well..."

Satori placed a finger to the guard's lips. "You've been thinking you want to join in the festivities, that it's only right for the mansion's staff to be part of the mansion's party. "

Okuu gasped. Was someone forcing Meiling to be... responsible?!? And with the party right there, too! "Yeah! If Satori let me come, you should get to come play too! They can't be too mad if Satori says it's okay, right?"

Meiling sighed. "Satori's not my boss, Utsuho. It does look like a fun party... but it's my job, you know?"

Satori folded her arms in front of her. "To stand here, alone, in an uncomfortable costume."

Meiling mirrored the pose, glaring at her. "You don't get to tell me my costume's uncomfortable, bandage girl. Can you even see in that?"

"Not very well, honestly. It's really awkward to move in." Satori shrugged. "I could have chosen a nicer costume... but that's just it, I chose it. Did you choose yours?"

The gatekeeper looked away, running a hand through her hair. "A dragon didn't fit the theme."

Satori put a hand on her shoulder. "Talk to Sakuya about it, tonight. She's less harsh than she lets on. And who knows? There's only so many people invited. Once they're all here... maybe you can join them."

"Yeah!" Okuu pumped her fist. "Maybe we can figure out the dragon costume idea! I can help make it breathe fire, or maybe plasma!"

Meiling coughed. "I'll, uh, keep it in mind."

Okuu tilted her head, leaning in slightly. Was it just her, or did Meiling look pale all of a sudden?

Satori giggled gently, taking her hand. "All right, then. Come along, Okuu."

Leaving the gatekeeper, the satori and her pet passed through the gate, into the mist, and into the party proper.

Remilia found herself quite pleased. Despite projecting confidence, she'd been at least a little worried that a Halloween celebration would come off as childish. But Sakuya had outdone herself. Not content with just having the partygoers disguised, she'd worked together with Patchouli to disguise the mansion rooms themselves. The foyer had been transformed into a scaled-up version of Reimu's shrine, whilst other rooms could have been taken wholesale from Hakugyokurou, Eientei, or Myouren Temple, among others. It was exceedingly gratifying watching a guest enter her mansion and promptly do a double-take on where they found themselves. Further adding to the enjoyment, the party's refreshments took similarly novel forms. Before tonight, Remilia would have sworn it was impossible to hide cake in so many forms, even if half of them were coated in fondant.

Behind her came some rather violent coughing, a crash of something breaking, and she whirled around to see the source... a dropped bowl and a mummy hurriedly pushing bandages back in place over her face.

"Satori?" she said disbelievingly.

"You went to the trouble of making seven-colored ice-cream and one of the flavors is blood?" the distressed mummy hacked. "Remilia, why?"

"Mostly for my own enjoyment, though some of the reactions have been priceless." Which was also for her own enjoyment, really. "Though I hadn't expected you to fall victim."

"Distracted... wasn't looking for it." Satori took a drink of the 'blood punch' (either strawberry, raspberry, or cranberry, depending on which batch was out at the moment), and sighed in relief. "Any entertaining victims so far?"

"Aside from you, you mean?" Remilia smiled. "Kasen was caught by surprise earlier while she was sampling everything. Her palate may be discriminating, but her sense of smell is not."

"Yeah, I can see that." Satori nodded. "Nice costume, by the way."

Remilia twirled, showing off her red and white shrine maiden outfit. "Considering the decoration, it was only fitting. I'm rather surprised at your choice, though."

"What could be better for something long-buried in an underground tomb?" Satori drained the rest of her glass, placing the cup firmly down on one of the knee-high tables. "Vampire, perhaps... but it would be rude to pick it for that reason at your party."

The vampire sniffed, frowning. "You shouldn't say things like that. Tombs are for the dead."

"Sorry, dark humor." she shook her head. "It's the kind of argument I'd always have with my sister."

The other youkai was at least apologetic, so Remilia graciously elected to let it slide. And seeing an unexpected face gawking by the entrance, she had the perfect change of topic. "Well, at least you have your own portable sun. Though... is it wise for you to leave your pet unattended?"

"Okuu will be fine," Satori waved it off. "I promise you, she'll be just as responsible as I am. Really, giving her a chance for some fun was half the reason I came. "

Remilia raised an eyebrow. "Not that I don't sympathize, but that sounds like you're up to something. What's the other half?"

Satori rubbed her hands together. "It has come to my attention that some of the guests here are masking their feelings. I'm just going to mingle, let them think on it for a while... and we'll see what they have to say for themselves by the end of the night."

"Should I be worried?"

"I think you'll find it entertaining."

Okuu had finally figured out one of the great secrets to life. There really was a way to make healthy things taste good! The snacks table was absolutely filled with stuff that should have just tasted healthy but was instead really delicious, and that meant she could eat as much of it as she wanted. Responsible!

It was in the middle of enjoying this bounty that Satori found her again. ‘’Enjoying yourself, Okuu?”

“Satori, look! The cauliflower tastes like cake! Can we do our vegetables like that?” Maybe they could all eat healthy like this, every day!

Satori giggled. “Sakuya’s probably the only one around who can pull off that trick. Well, maybe Youmu.”

“I bet Orin could figure it out!” It was dogs that couldn’t learn new tricks, after all!

Satori patted her on the head, and she closed her eyes and leaned into it. “Well, she probably could… but there’s no point.”
She cracked open an eye to look at her master pleadingly. “B-but… it’s healthy and tastes really good!”

“It’s not actually healthy,” Satori explained. “The cake is only pretending to be cauliflower.”

“Aw.” Okuu pouted, getting nothing but extra petting for her trouble. Which wasn’t nothing, actually, but it was nothing compared to getting cake every day. Or… something healthy that was tasty like cake.

Though… maybe if Satori was distracted, she could get away with just eating disguised cake? Satori got distracted too sometimes, right? Wait, she should wait until later to think about it! Satori didn’t say anything or stop petting her, so maybe she got away with it?

“Anyway, Okuu-”

“I wasn’t thinking of anything!”

Satori giggled, scratching her behind the ears. “You know what you were thinking of. But that’s not what I was going to say.”

Aw. She’d have to think of something else. Er, not that she was going to try something else!

“You see the white wolf tengu over there peeking into the Eientei room?”

“Yeah!” Okuu tilted her head. If a white wolf tengu was what she looked like, did that mean she was really something else? The tail looked real, though. “Are you gonna pet her too?”

“She wouldn’t want me to,” Satori sighed. “She thinks it’s beneath her dignity, and she has to be responsible all the time.”

Okuu looked on in horror. “But you can be pet and be responsible!”

“She doesn’t think so. But maybe you can help.”

Oh! Satori was gonna trust her with something important! “Right! I’ll tell her!”

“Okuu, wait!”

She started to run towards the poor not-pet, but Satori grabbed her wrist and yanked her back. The bird tripped and had to flap her wings to avoid falling entirely. She did lose what was left of the not-actually-healthy cake, wincing as the treat the floor. Satori would let her have more, right? Wait, there was a more important thing!

“Okuu, she won’t listen if you tell her being a pet is good.”
Okuu tilted her head, thinking about that one for a minute. She didn’t get it. “Why not?”

“Because she’s stubborn.” Satori explained. “It’s like how you can’t just tell an oni they’re wrong, or they’ll try to fight you.”

Okuu tapped her fingers against her arm cannon. “That’s okay though? I can beat her!”

“You’d wreck the party and we’d have to go home.” Satori said bluntly.

That made her pause. Okuu did really like the party. But… the tengu’s ears and tail looked really fluffy. If Satori got a fluffy pet from it, maybe losing the party was worth it?

“And she still wouldn’t want to be a pet.” Satori finished.

Never mind. Bad idea. Terrible idea. Awful, horrible, birdbrain idea. Okuu sighed, looking down to the floor.

Satori put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t try to convince her of anything, okay? Just go over there, be friendly, and be Okuu.”

Okuu tilted her head. “What does that do?”

Satori patted her on the back. “You being you will be make her think harder than anything you could actually say. ”

Okuu didn’t really get it, and said as much, but Satori pushed her towards the tengu anyway. She’d just have to give it a try.

… wait, if she was supposed to be herself, did that mean she needed to tell her she wasn’t Koishi?

Kasen wasn’t usually a fan of Remilia’s style of showing off. The vampire’s tastes ran from showy to ostentatious (with the occasional detour into childish), and while Sakuya ensured everything was run impeccably and of the highest quality, the presentation alone tended to rub her the wrong way.

But she would freely admit this was impressive. If there was one thing sure to draw the attention of a long-lived youkai, it was novelty. And nearly every element of this gathering added another surprise to the list, whether something truly new, or an unexpected twist on an old classic.

In addition to various locations within Gensokyo, some of the mansion’s rooms had been decorated to match styles from much further away. It made the hermit curious as to when Remilia had seen some of these, let alone when she’d gathered some of the props. Keiki’s clay fortress, Stonehenge, an ancient greek temple, the moon… it was a true spectacle, and one she found herself touring. With Sakuya’s cooking being as excellent as always and twice as varied, Kasen found herself truly enjoying the evening.

Finding herself with an empty plate once more, Kasen discreetly set it on an end table as she returned to the main hall. Hm, what next? The portobello mushroom “steaks” were both quite clever and surprisingly close to the real thing. Perhaps if she took just one, and paired it with one of the mashed potato “bread bowls”, filled with a spoonful of gravy… and one of the vampire bat petit fours. The chocolate cake interior with the raspberry compote “blood” was a truly nice touch.

“I knew I’d run into you if I waited near the buffet,” a voice said. “Really, I’m not sure how Reimu takes your talk of restraint seriously.”

Turning to see a mummy with a third eye, Kasen closed her eyes, counted to three, and exhaled. A mind reader was always a tense conversation. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to. This is a moderate portion, after all.”

“That would mean a lot more if it was your only portion.” Satori said. “And we both know how many plates you’ve had.”

Kasen glanced down at her third plate of food and sighed. “What do you want, Satori?”

Satori hummed, folding her arms as she tapped her foot. “I’m not quite sure how to put this… but have you seen Reimu’s costume by any chance?”

“The oni look? It’s cute.” Admittedly, Kasen found it that way for personal reasons, but taste was a personal thing regardless.

“Indeed.” Satori laughed gently. “It fits her personality pretty well too. It’s easy to imagine her settling a dispute with Yuugi through her fists.”

Kasen had to smile at that. “Yes, but you probably shouldn’t tell her that.”

“Interesting how she went for a pair of small, conical horns. Placed approximately where your own hair decorations are.”

Kasen glanced around, making sure nobody was within easy eavesdropping range. “I would greatly prefer if you kept that quiet,” she hissed. She took a deep breath and continued in a more normal tone. “Besides. The entire reason Reimu picked oni in the first place was because it was the least effort.”

Satori took her time picking out a dessert, reaching for a mousse shaped like a certain unconsciousness youkai’s green hat. “Do you think so little of your pupil’s intuition?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Reimu’s not always the sharpest.” Satori said, grabbing a spoon. “She’s the type to get in her own head and do worse for it.”

With a twinge of shame, Kasen remembered betting against her during the religious wars. She’d won her bet, but still…

“But her intuition is unparalleled.” Satori continued. “Her unconscious mind is spectacularly skilled at picking up small details and capitalizing on them.”

When Kasen grasped the implication, it took a second for the oni to get over her incredulity. “You’re suggesting Reimu unconsciously decided to dress as me? Why?”

Before answering, Satori tried a bite of her dessert, shuddered, and pushed it aside. “Eugh. Why is this so bad?”

Kasen blinked, nonplussed. She’d tried the mousse herself on a previous pass, and it had seemed a fairly ordinary dessert to her. She shook her head. “I asked you a question.”

“Sorry,” Satori gulped down a drink of water, sighing in relief. “Reimu may not realize herself. But she’s not as self-reliant as she seems.”

Kasen frowned. “She was… unpolished when I first met her, but she was handling Gensokyo’s incidents fine even before I stepped in.”

“Oh, nobody doubts her talent. I’ve felt her spellcards myself.” Satori waved a hand. “I mean emotionally. She has Marisa, but you realize that before you came to the shrine, her second closest relationship was Yukari? For a child who lost her mother at an early age, that isn’t much.”

“It’s not fair to call Reimu a child,” she managed.

“Perhaps not. But it is fair to say that she’s been significantly happier since you entered her life. Teaching her. Protecting her. Caring for her. All those things that the previous shrine maiden, her mother, would have done for her. And tonight, you even look the part.”

When had she lost control of this conversation? “It’s not like that. She complains about me all the time.”

“Mhm. And I’m sure you’ve never heard her complain endlessly about Marisa.” Satori sighed, glancing over across the room. Kasen followed her gaze, seeing the shrine maiden in question chatting with Marisa. “Reimu may not ever thank you for any of your lectures, but the care you give each one with pulls her a little closer to you each time. She feels a lot more for you than she realizes.”

That was… Kasen reached for the weakness in the argument immediately. “Your ability doesn’t extend to the unconscious mind. This is speculation.”

“True, I can’t read the depths of her heart, but I’ve picked up a number of Reimu’s surface thoughts. Being lonely. Brightening up when she sees you. Thinking about what you would say when she’s about to try another money-making scheme. Do you realize she’s disappointed when a day goes by and you don’t show up? Do you know what she felt when she saw you here in that shrine maiden garb?”

It felt like the rest of the world faded away. Kasen wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the answer. “What was it?” she asked anyway.

Satori placed a hand on her arm. “It’ll be up to her to tell you, one day. But when she does, you’ll be glad to hear it.”

No. Surely Reimu didn’t think of her as her mother. She’d never intended to claim that role, she’d never had any practice at it, and it’s not like she’d done anything beyond the role of a mentor? Besides, what about previously, when she’d taken care of the shrine during that little fortune-telling stint? Reimu had never said anything then!

“You’re afraid,” Satori said. “Worried about what she might say.”

Kasen gritted her teeth, looking down at her bandaged arm. “Perhaps it’s cowardly of me.”

“If you’ll take some advice?” the mind-reader offered.

The hermit sighed, straightening up. “I already know. I should go over there and face up to it.”

Satori squeezed her arm. “No. Reimu’s not ready for that just yet. Right this second, the idea would scare her as much as it does you.”

Kasen glared at her. “Then what-”

“Be there for her,” Satori said. “Do what you’ve been doing, but a little closer, a little more affectionate. She may not know how to react, but I promise she’ll appreciate it. And maybe it’ll help you get used to the idea as well.”

Kasen rubbed at her eyes, considering it. It wouldn’t be hard; a compliment here, a gentle touch there. But did Reimu really want that? Did she? Testing the waters to see how a closer relationship would feel was incredibly tempting… but wasn’t it wrong to lead her on if she didn’t feel that way? But wouldn’t it be worse to pull back if Reimu needed her? She’d already committed to helping her.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to check up on my pet,” Satori said.

“Satori, wait-” she pleaded, but it was too late.

The mind reader had vanished into the crowd, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Momiji’s patience was waning. The hell raven before her was loud, far too happy, and simply would not take the hint to leave. Instead, she had to suffer the endless prattle of another simple-minded bird, except this one was going on about her carefree life instead of staying home.

“And then we all went to the hot spring!” Utsuho chirped happily. “Yuugi gives us half off as long as me or Orin give her a good fight! Which is great, ‘cause I get to play, and then I get to relax, and because it’s cheap, it’s all responsible!”

Really, were the tengu and the kappa the only youkai who prized hard work? “Yeah, sounds like responsibility’s a big thing for you guys.”

“Uh huh!” The pet beamed, missing the sarcasm entirely. “Satori’s always talking to me about it! It’s hard, but even if I screw it up, she’ll just pat me on the head and tell me how to do better next time! She’s really nice.”

Even the costume was minimum effort. She’d just squeezed into one of the unconsciousness youkai’s outfits. Although, considering Momiji had just thrown together some old plate armor for the European knight look, she couldn’t throw too many stones there.

“What kind of screw-ups?” she asked.

Utsuho shuffled awkwardly, holding her arm cannon against her chest. (Really, did she never take the thing off?) “Sometimes when I’m playing with Orin… Satori says the Yatagarasu’s not an indoors god. Which doesn’t make sense, ‘cause you can get sun indoors, right? That’s what windows are for?”

The bird stared at her like she was expecting an answer. Momiji sighed. “Technically, yes.”

“Right! So if I just use a little power, it should be okay!” said the walking embodiment of nuclear fire. As the red eye on her chest opened and the room got about ten degrees warmer.

“Okuu!”

At those words and the third-eye-bearing mummy’s approach, Momiji felt actual relief. She never thought she’d be happy to see a mind reader.

“Satori!” The pet jumped up, smiling ear to ear again. “I did it! I talked to her!”

Wait, what?

“Yes, you’re such a good girl,” Satori said, confirming… something. “Come here.”

Satori plucked the hat off of Utsuho’s head and stroked her hand through her hair. The pet leaned into it, hugging her master and sighing blissfully as Satori returned the embrace with one arm and pet her with the other.

“Excuse me, just why was talking to me such a goal for her?” Momiji interrupted.

“Ah, sorry.” Satori said, continuing to pet her bird. “Okuu spends most of her time underground, and barely knows anyone outside of Chireiden. Part of the reason I brought her here was so she could talk to a few people and hopefully find a friend. Hopefully she didn’t bother you?”

… well, there went her sense of righteous indignation. “Er… well no, it was no trouble at all.”

“I’m glad.” Satori stepped away from Utsuho, the hell-raven pouting as she looked at her master with puppy dog eyes. “Okuu, they’re starting up some spellcard duels outside. If you go now, you have a chance to fight Marisa.”

Okuu- er, Ustuho went from pouting to eager instantly, gushing about how that sounded fun and rocketing out the door.

The hell raven was close enough to a crow tengu to make her very un-crow-like behavior surprisingly funny. Momiji found herself chuckling at the thought of Aya doing any of that and- why was Satori so close?

“Thanks for being good to Okuu,” she said softly.

Momiji looked down at the shorter youkai, at the bandages that didn’t quite cover a fringe of pink hair… and as she did, Satori raised her hand, briefly touching her hair. It was the shortest possible touch, soft and gentle… and Momiji recoiled, pushing the pet-lover away.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she growled.
Satori staggered slightly, holding up a black feather. “Sorry, you had one of Okuu’s feathers in your hair. I should have just said something.”

Momiji took a deep breath, her cheeks coloring. Right, she didn’t mean anything by it, she was just used to being affectionate with her own pets. “Yes, please do that next time.”

Satori just nodded, looking at her with all three eyes. “Are you enjoying the party?”

If there was any trace of her momentary good mood left, that question disposed of it. “It’s alright.”

“That was the other part of the reason I asked Okuu to come talk to you. You seemed like you could use cheering up.”

The tengu sighed. She hadn’t wanted to make a big deal of it… but with the mind reader pressing her on it, there was little chance of that. Maybe it was a chance to vent? “I hadn’t wanted to come,” she confessed. “Aya insisted, and Megumu backed her, even arguing it was a reward.”

“But you don’t see it that way.” Satori said sympathetically.

“What do I have to do at a party like this? Just look,” she growled, pointing out individuals. “The mistress of Hakugyokurou. The immortals from Eientei. The Hakurei Shrine maiden. Everyone here is either the head of one of Gensokyo’s power blocks, or the direct servant of such. They’re the sort of people Megumu wants to talk to.”

“Granted, but it is a party,” Satori tried. “You don’t have to worry about business, you can just talk to people.”

“Idle gossip is Aya’s thing,” she dismissed. “And even if I did care for it, it’s not like there’s a social group in here for some random white wolf tengu. I’d be surprised if more than a quarter of the attendees knew my name.”

And astonished if any of them knew more about her than Aya’s secondhand complaints. Present mind-reading company aside, at least.

Satori sighed. “It’s hard when other people think they know what’s best for you. Especially when they don’t really understand you. ”

“Yes!” she said. “There’s patrols to be organized, minor youkai like the Yamanba to be driven off, the usual territory scuffles with the kappa, putting on a good show for the human village… and I’m stuck being bored and uncomfortable in an environment where I can’t actually do any of it.”

Momiji reached over her shoulder, trying to loosen a rivet where the shoulderpad was sticking. Damned full plate armor. It was less embarrassing than any of the costumes Aya had suggested, but it was also far less comfortable than her usual uniform. “Honestly, this is such a pain in the neck that I can’t help but wonder if Tsukasa’s somehow behind it.”

Satori tilted her head. “Why do you say that?”

“Pretty much every time there’s something weird going on, the tube fox has her claws in it,” she growled. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to scramble because of some suggestion she whispered to someone… and somehow she comes out smelling like roses each time.”

“The disasters are always someone else’s fault, and the credit is always hers?” Satori asked sympathetically.

“Every time.” Momiji grunted. “I don’t suppose you could make her your pet, get the tube fox out of our hair?”

Satori outright shuddered at that. “No. I hate to consider what her whispers would do to my sister… or Orin and Okuu for that matter.”

Momiji laughed. “It’s refreshing to see someone else with the proper reaction to that schemer. Bit of a shame though, from what Utsuho-”

“Please, call her Okuu,” Satori interrupted.

Momiji rolled her eyes “Alright, from what Okuu was saying, sounds like you’ve got plenty of space down there.”

“You have to think about compatibility first when it comes to pets. I do want to find a pet for my sister, but she’d have to be unquestionably loyal, and trustworthy. And also a dependable hard worker; Okuu’s a bit flighty, and while Orin’s more responsible, she is something of a hellion at times.”

“Yeah, and it’s not like any of those apply to Tsukasa.” Momiji sighed. “I just wish we could dump her on the Animal Realm or something. Heavens only know why the boss likes her, Tsukasa’s plotting makes everything so much harder than it needs to be.”

Satori hummed, looking her up and down. “You’re straightforwards, Momiji. That’s not a bad thing, it makes you dependable, but it also means you’re predictable for a schemer like Tsukasa.”

“It’s not like I can just abandon my job,” she growled. “If I let Tsukasa’s crap go, it’ll be the other white wolves who suffer. But Megumu won’t listen to me.”

“But continuing as is just enables her,” Satori murmured, lost in thought. After a second she looked up. “If getting Megumu to listen is the issue, that’s a question of establishing credibility. Of having a noticeable success you can claim as yours.”

“Like what? Hoping some major youkai attacks and I can drive it off?” Momiji sat down heavily, holding a hand to her head. “Besides, Tsukasa would worm her way into claiming credit somehow.”

Aya had been completely furious when Tsukasa had made a play for editing control of the Bunbunmaru, and even more so when Megumu had actually considered it. Whatever else could be said about Aya, that newspaper was unquestionably hers, and she’d still been forced to let the tube fox write opinion pieces.

“Well, this is a little different from what I thought I’d be talking to you about,” Satori said. “But what about negotiating a trade deal for the tengu? One where the other side specifically doesn’t want to deal with Tsukasa?”

Momiji raised her head to look at the satori. “That could work… maybe.”

“And as it so happens, I have something in mind. Really, I thought I’d have to corner Aya or Megumu over this, but this might just be better.”

She perked right up. Seriously, why didn’t Satori just lead with that? “I’m all ears.”

Satori picked idly at the bandages of her costume. “Well, now that the underground is coming back into the open more, we’re looking to repair our reputation a bit. The right article could prompt a few people to take a new look at some old youkai. Get a little closer to the day where my sister and the rest can all move around freely on the surface.”

She was serious, then. Momiji started pacing, thinking about it. “I won’t say it’s impossible, but that’s a major ask. There’s only so much influence the Bunbunmaru has to exert, and the priority there is tengu interests. And the thing is, the reputation of satori in particular is bad enough to make you risky for us to support.”

“That’s just another way of saying you want something good for your efforts. Fortunately, I have something in mind.” The bandages hid it, but Momiji could feel the smug smile regardless. “How long has it been since the tengu have had a decent supply of oni sake?”

Interesting. Momiji nodded, seeing the hook. “Normal sake just doesn’t cut it to get a tengu drunk, and while there’s Geidontei, only a couple tengu can sneak down there at a time. Yeah, there’d be some interest. And this sake would be passed through the Hoshiguma dish, of course?”

“It could be,” Satori said. “And with just how insular the Mistress of Chireiden is, I doubt anyone would find it too weird if I insisted a particular hard-working, dependable, and above all trustworthy white wolf oversaw everything.”

“Cutting Tsukasa out of the loop completely.” Momiji grinned. “This actually sounds plausible. I’d need to rework the patrol schedules, but I could get a few good white wolves down there to oversee deliveries.”

Satori shook her head. “You’re thinking like an honest person. If you want to establish your credibility to Megumu, you need to handle everything yourself. Personally visiting the Underground, personally doing a little agreed upon work for Chireiden, and personally delivering the high quality sake to the daitengu’s table.”

“That would require a lot more delegation, but I suppose it makes sense.” Momiji rubbed her chin, thinking. “Wait, what kind of work are we talking about?”

“Nothing strenuous,” Satori held up a hand. “Thanks to Suika’s Ibuki gourd, the oni have effectively unlimited sake, but they’ll still want some good fights to part with some of it. Orin and Okuu are strong enough to handle that, but that’s time taken away from some of their other duties. I’d be asking you to fill in for them.”

Oh, so just filling in for Satori’s pets every so often? The wolf youkai nodded, that seemed reasonable enough.

“One last thing. My sister tends to react impulsively around both animals and animal youkai. You may need to deal with some unsolicited affection from her.”

Right, the whole Koishi thing. Momiji sighed. That could be embarrassing, but… “Just so long as it doesn’t interfere with my actual work.”

“Then we’re good to go,” Satori concluded. “Though we’ll want to negotiate this more formally after the party. Come up with something ironclad, no loopholes.”

Naturally. A single conversation at a party wasn’t exactly solid, and Momiji didn’t want Tsukasa to find a way to sneak into this. “Agreed,” she said.

The mind reader offered her hand, and Momiji shook it, more optimistic than she had been in months… and blissfully unaware of what she’d just agreed to.

Rinnosuke had chosen to relax on the lawn, observing the danmaku duels clashing overhead. Even at something as peaceful and active as a party, there were always a few who preferred the excitement of spellcards, both human and youkai. With her usual exuberance, Marisa had laid down the gauntlet for anyone who dared challenge her, and was still undefeated four fights in.

Though that might change, as the anything-but-ordinary magician was currently in the middle of a close fight with one of the few youkai that could match her for sheer firepower, Utsuho Reiuji. Stars were flying every which way, as both miniature suns and master sparks lit up the night sky. With high-level danmaku to watch, a rather comfortable lawn chair to lounge in, and both wine and sake in abundance, it promised to be a pleasant evening.

“She’s really something, isn’t she?”

He turned his head to see that the mistress of Chireiden had snuck into the lawnchair next to him, her mummy-like garb an amusing contrast against the modern convenience. He gave her comment a polite nod.

“Indeed. While I’m far from an expert on these things, Utsuho wields the power of the sun quite naturally.”

Satori giggled. “She really did take to it well. I was worried about her for a while, but these days it’s hard to imagine Okuu without nuclear fusion fueling her confidence.”

“What was she like before?”

“She was a happy, sweet girl, but pretty shy.” Satori sighed wistfully. “She’d hang on every word my sister and I said, and follow Orin around like a little lost puppy. I’m glad she’s found her confidence, but sometimes it hits me unexpectedly, you know? The little child I knew is all grown up now.”

Rinnosuke leaned back in his chair, watching Marisa weave through danmaku as he sipped at his wine. “I can relate to that. I’ve known Marisa since she was knee-high, and now she’s…”

As he tried to put words to the feeling, Marisa fired off a Master Spark, breaking through Utsuho’s spellcard and flinging her across the yard.

“Doing that?” Satori said drily.

“Indeed. Sometimes it’s hard to believe this magician was once that little girl.” he remarked.

It was meant as an idle comment. And in that spirit, Rinnosuke made the mistake of taking a deeper drink of his wine, watching as the hell raven recovered and a new sun lit up the sky. It left him singularly unprepared for Satori’s next comment.

“If it makes it any easier to connect the two, they both have a crush on you.”

Rinnosuke coughed and sputtered as the wine went down the wrong way. “What? I’ll give you that she had a crush as a small child, but she’s long since abandoned that.”

The mind-reader laughed, shaking her head. “Are you really going to tell me I’m wrong about what she thinks?”

He looked down at the wrapped-up third-eye. Was it looking at him? Was it looking at Marisa? Concealed as it was, he couldn’t tell. “Whatever her romantic feelings are, I can’t imagine she’d lay them bare to you,” he protested.

“Oh, not intentionally,” Satori said, leaning in as smugness leaked into her tone. “But really, you don’t need mind-reading to spot her feelings.”

He caught the glint of a smile as Satori sipped a drink of her own. “You can’t be serious,” he protested. “There’s nothing to indicate anything of the sort.”

“Don’t be so sure, ‘Kourin’. She’s got a special nickname for you and you’re the only man of any importance in her life.”

“That says more about Gensokyo than it does about me. We’re just friends.” he insisted. “She steals from my shop the same way she steals from anyone else.”

The danmaku duel was still raging on overhead, but at the moment he was more concerned with Satori’s words. “True enough. But she lets you steal back from her. Whether that’s selling the valuables she ‘acquires’ on the cheap, or outright giving them to you.”

“That’s only because she’s unaware of their true value. She thinks they’re useless trinkets.”

“You do realize we’re talking about someone who is friends with Nitori, Sumireko, Kasen, and Yukari? Do you really think she’s ignorant of the outside world’s technology?”

“But it’s Marisa,” he protested. “She actively works to take advantage of every trick, spell, and scheme she can find!”

“Extremely true. She’s hardly that generous with others. The only things she’s ever given Alice or Patchouli are spellcards and headaches. Which rather forces the conclusion that you must be special indeed.”

He shook his head. “Marisa’s never been shy about what she wants. All this means is that she’s a better friend than I realized.”

“Does the thought bother you that much?” Satori laid a hand on his wrist. “Would it be so bad if the two of you were together?”

Rinnosuke hesitated. Truth be told, he’d never seriously considered the idea. Marisa had been far too young when she’d expressed that childhood crush, so he’d let her down gently, figured she’d grow out of it, and by and large assumed that she had. Could he picture himself at her side?

… no, not in the slightest. He did not belong anywhere near Gensokyo’s incidents. But in a supporting role? Perhaps. There was already an element of that, wasn’t there? He had made her mini-hakkero, and she was supporting his efforts to stock the shop… for all she sometimes ‘borrowed’ his merchandise.

But that was merely business. He’d held her at arm’s length for so long, what would being close to Marisa even look like? She was a boundless well of energy and enthusiasm, something he simply didn’t have the personality to match. Could she accept that? Could he? Would his slower pace steady her, or would it simply be holding her back?

He had a sinking feeling there was only one way those questions could ever be answered.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “We get along well enough as friends, but as a couple? I have trouble picturing it.”

“Alright, then. I won’t say anything more on the matter,” Satori said, drawing back. “But I do have something for you to look at, if you’re interested.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, happily accepting the change of topic. “Please.”

“If you could take a look at these?” Satori asked, passing over a couple scraps of fabric. “Koishi left them in her room, and I’m reasonably sure they’re something she found while wandering around on the surface. I’d be interested to know what you think of them.”

“Oh, of course,” he said pleasantly, accepting the curious items.

As always, Rinnosuke started by examining them closely. Both pieces of cloth were quite small, being roughly the size of his fingertip. They looked like they had been cut rather than torn, so presumably the small size was intentional, which made him wonder why anyone would bother cutting such a small piece of fabric.

The color of the first was rectangular and primarily blue, and it was pleasantly soft to the touch, but there was a white zig-zagging pattern sown into it, with a tiny hem along one edge. It didn’t lie quite flat either, curving noticeably inwards. Part of a dress or robe, perhaps? With the small radius of the curve, perhaps it was part of a sleeve, or it may have just been folded awkwardly. But the size of the hem was far too small to seem appropriate for an adult, or even a child’s clothing. Maybe an inchling?

The second one was also fabric, but a small black cone of it, tapering to a point. Again, the material was soft and pleasant to the touch, though he was at a bit of a loss as to how it might be part of a functional outfit.

Of course, he didn’t need to just guess. As he held them, memories of their use filtered in. As he’d expected, both pieces of cloth had been cut from a larger whole, and very recently at that; probably some whim of Koishi’s. But before then - ah, they were from pieces of clothing, but not that of an inchling, that of a pair of dolls. The blue and white fabric was actually the collar of a robe, with the black cone being the tip of a witch’s hat. And both dolls had seen a lot of use, having been being played with and treasured by a child. Played with together, in fact; it seemed both scraps of fabric came from the same house.

Their method of play was where they differed, however. The blue and white fabric was used primarily to play house or shop, while the other was the star of numerous adventures, heroically battling vague shapes of other dolls and shadowy monsters. And then there were the times where the two pieces of fabric were played with together, and this changed over time. At the beginning, it was a simple case of hero and bystander, or occasionally shopkeeper. But as time went on, the blue and white fabric featured in more of the black cone’s adventures, being frequently rescued, and then… spending a lot of time in their rescuer’s company, enthusiastically thanking them. A sure sign the child had become a teenager.

The memories of play filtered off at that point, as the girl (he was now sure it was a girl) outgrew her dolls… though he sensed that even when they’d been put away, they still got pulled out every now and then, and had been packed away with care in a carefully hidden box.

Just how had Koishi gotten her hands on these, anyway? It seemed unlikely they’d been left out with how well they’d been cared for. Did Gensokyo actually have two nigh-uncatchable burglars?

He turned over to where Satori had been sitting… and noticed a third item laying on the chair she’d been sitting in. This one was a rectangular piece of paper, and a far more normal size, comparable to his hand. Picking it up, he realized it was a photo. A photo of two dolls, in fact.

A doll of a witch… or perhaps he should say of an ordinary magician, missing the tip of her hat. And a doll of himself, with a piece of its collar cut off.

As he looked down at the photo, trying to process the implications, a small part of his mind observed that Satori had only promised she wouldn’t say anything more. How many words were this picture worth?

“Watcha’ lookin at, Kourin?” a very familiar voice asked.

Looking up at a certain ordinary magician, Rinnosuke considered the context of the photo he held, and just what this looked like. Heat rushed to his cheeks as he realized just how thoroughly the mind reader had set him up. “Er- nothing! Nothing at all!”

“That doesn’t sound like nothing,” Marisa said, smiling mischievously. “Makes me think I oughta take a look for myself!”

“It’s just a… little piece of memory! From long ago! Nothing you’d want to see!”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that!”

The witch made a grab for the photo, and while Rinnosuke scrambled to his feet and tried to keep it away, he was unable to outmaneuver one of Gensokyo’s premier danmaku duelists.

“Gotcha!” she grinned. “Now let’s see…”

It took a second for the contents of the photo to register, and when it did, Rinnosuke got to witness the triple murder of Marisa’s good mood, dignity, and temper, all at once. Her cheeks went bright red, and the paper was crumpled within a fist.

“Where did you get this?” she said quietly.

“That, er-”

“Where?!”

“Satori left it behind!” he yelped. “She was saying you, uh-”

“Satori?! But she suggested I-” Marisa trailed off. He could see the moment she fully realized the setup, as her expression went downright murderous. “I’m going to exterminate her.”

“Marisa, wait!”

As Marisa turned on him, Rinnosuke really wasn’t sure why he’d said anything. Misplaced bravery? Trying to reach out? But he had. Something deep down told him letting her fly away would be a mistake.

“Marisa, I… I make a habit of going out to eat in the human village. At the end of the week.” He swallowed, extending a hand. “Would you like to join me?”

The anger on her face broke, giving way to something closer to embarrassment… and far more vulnerable. “Is that how you ask a girl out?”

“... apparently so?” he tried.

“W-well don’t think I’m gonna go easy on you,” she said, taking it. “If we’re gonna do this, it better be something special.”

Her audible reluctance was rather undermined by how her grip was tight enough to cut off the circulation to his fingers.

He cut back a sigh of relief. “Of course. I’m… unsure what will be available on such short notice, but I will do what I can.”

For just a brief moment, they made eye contact, and Marisa looked away awkwardly.

“I’m still going to exterminate her, you realize,” she muttered.

Rinnosuke took a moment to consider that. “May I watch?”

Reimu was enjoying the party, all things considered. Needing to bother with a costume was annoying, but a pair of small horns and a cheap dress were an acceptable price to pay for free food. And while Remilia absolutely had flaws, cutting corners wasn’t one of them. Sakuya knew how to cook. (Really, why did Yukari ever bother stealing her food when the mansion was right here? Surely the maid couldn’t be watching all of it all the time?) She’d have to see how much she could get away with sneaking into a doggy bag.

Which reminded her, she should really get something for Aunn as well. She’d offered to let the Komainu come, but apparently the guardian beast had felt the need to guard the fort, both for her shrine and Sanae’s. Admittedly, it made some sense. Even if most of the big threats were at this party, there were plenty of small fry running around. She sighed. A youkai exterminator’s work was never done.

She rubbed at the bandages on her arm. They weren’t supposed to be part of a costume or anything, but somehow earlier… she’d been startled, whirled around, and managed to cut herself on someone else’s costume of all things. Not just a little either; she’d somehow sliced the back of her arm all the way from her wrist to her elbow. Sakuya had been there in a flash with medical supplies, and Kasen had run over a moment after, being her usual… overly concerned self.

Something about the whole thing was pinging her instincts, but she couldn’t quite tell what, so she’d flown up to an isolated balcony to think. She didn’t think for a second that the cut was accidental… so who was behind it? And why? Sakuya could do it, no question, but there was no reason for her to cause trouble, not at one of Remilia’s parties. What did anyone stand to gain from a shallow cut along her arm? She felt perfectly fine, and it wasn’t like a scratch like this would stop her from throwing out amulets or fantasy seals if the need arose.

She leaned against the railing, frowning. For that matter, Kasen had been acting strangely. The hermit had insisted on bandaging Reimu’s arm herself, and the shrine maiden had braced herself for a lecture… only for Kasen to gently tell her to be more careful, that Gensokyo needed her. And then to reach out and straighten the little fake oni horns she’d been wearing, a small touch that had lingered just a little too long before Reimu had pulled away.

Kasen had been almost… motherly.

Reimu flushed, shaking her head. Where had that come from? The sake must be getting to her. Actually wait, maybe that was it, and Kasen had been drunk? Her face had looked a little red… but no, she’d sounded sober. Besides, Reimu had seen the hermit’s alcohol tolerance; she could probably give Suika a run for her money. No, there was no way Kasen was that out of it this early in the evening.

Come to think of it, Kasen wasn’t the only one out of sorts. Marisa was on the warpath, trying to hunt down Satori for some reason she absolutely refused to name. Only for the mind-reading youkai to have seemingly performed a vanishing ac-

“Evening.” Satori said from behind her. “Enjoying the party?”

Reimu nearly shot her. She took a deep breath. “I wasn’t expecting you here. Where’s your pet?”

The pet-owner walked up to lean on the railing beside her and sighed. “Resting on a bench. Marisa did a number on her, and then Okuu went back for more duels.”

“Sounds like her.” Reimu looked out across the courtyard. The heavy hitters seemed done for now, but Meiling and some tengu were trading spellcards. “You know, you should probably leave before Marisa finds you.”

Satori merely shrugged, sounding all too satisfied. “I’m not worried. She’ll have forgiven me by the end of the week.”

“What did you even do to her, anyway?” Reimu asked, glancing over at her. “I haven’t seen her that furious since that time Aya broke into her house.”

Trying to catalog everything Marisa had stolen over the years had not been the tengu’s brightest idea.

“I may have clued Rinnosuke in on a certain young maiden’s feelings.”

Did she have a death wish? “Maybe I should just give you to her.”

“He was cautiously receptive.” The mind reader giggled. “If you keep an eye on the human village izakaya in a few nights, you’re likely to see something precious.”

Now that was something that should be witnessed - no, framed and immortalized. Maybe if she asked Aya… no, terrible idea, she wanted to tease her friend, not make her love life a news story. Perhaps she could borrow a camera off the kappa?

Reimu shook her head. There had to be a line somewhere. “She’s still going to kill you.”

Satori pulled away the bandages around her mouth, revealing a victorious smirk. “All the same, this was important,” she said. “How long would it have taken Marisa to admit she cares for Rinnosuke?”

Reimu hummed. “Probably not until someone kidnapped him, or some other incident around the guy. I’d give it even odds of happening in three years or so?”

Satori scoffed. “So many people mask their true feelings for one another. Afraid of embarrassment, afraid of rejection. They’d rather bury their hearts than risk breaking them. Even if it slowly strangles them, leaves them something lesser. ”

Reimu blinked. “And you’re telling me this, why?”

Satori turned to face her, any trace of levity completely gone. “Because it concerns you.”

Reimu shook her head.“I resolve incidents, not repressed feelings.”

Satori stepped forwards. “Not the Hakurei Shrine Maiden. You, Reimu. Personally.”

Reimu raised an eyebrow at that. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not hiding any ‘true feelings’ for anyone.”

Another step. The mind reader gestured airily. “Neither was Rinnosuke. You have good instincts, Reimu. Has anyone been behaving unusually around you? More affectionately than you expected?”

Kasen. Reimu swallowed, taking a step back. “You said something to her.”

“So what if I did?” Satori was really close now. “I read thoughts, Reimu, I don’t plant them. She cares about you.”

Her hand reached down to the amulets in her pockets. “That doesn’t give you the right to-”

“To what?” Satori demanded. “If Kasen realized she cares about you more than she thought, and wants to show you that, is that such a bad thing? Would it really bother you if Kasen spent more time around the shrine? Not to lecture, or manage the shrine, but to be with you. To talk or drink or teach or whatever you wanted, just to spend that time with you, because your smile means something to her.”

“It’s not like that,” Reimu said, shaking her head. “Look she’s helpful sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I want her around all the time. She’s bossy, and overbearing, and-”

A touch on her arm froze her as Satori ran her hand across the bandages, tracing a finger down the line of the cut. “How long has it been since someone cared for you, Reimu? You protect all of Gensokyo, isn’t it nice for someone to protect you?”

The memory of Kasen bandaging her cut flashed through her mind, particularly that last bit, that lingering touch. How long had it been since someone had touched her so gently, let alone held her? Had anyone since her mom… died…

She yanked her arm away, blushing furiously. “I-it’s not like that!”

“Then you have nothing to worry about, surely?” Satori smiled. “If what you and Kasen have is really just acquaintances, the hermit mentor and her trainee shrine maiden, nothing will come of this.”

Satori took still another step forwards, now completely invading Reimu’s personal space. “But that’s not quite it. If Kasen truly bothered you, you’d have told her to stop. But instead, you’ve been glad to have her around. Welcomed her guidance, her training, even the lectures. And you’ve grown because of it. She’s really helped you blossom over the past few years.”

Reimu took another step back, but her back hit the railing, a cold line of metal preventing her from retreating further. “She’s not my mom!”

“Who said anything about mothers?” Satori smirked. “Though now that you mention it, she does look the part. The garb of a Hakurei Shrine maiden… it fits her quite well. It’s easy to imagine her at the shrine, taking care of it.”

She didn’t have to imagine. Kasen had cared for the shrine when she’d been busy fortune telling in the village… and to her shame, the shrine had never been cleaner. Or taking care of her, her mind whispered treacherously.

“Kasen doesn’t want to push you too hard.” Satori said softly, leaning in. “She’s not sure how you’ll react, and she’s still getting used to the idea herself. That’s your opportunity. See how it feels, and go with what your heart tells you. If there’s nothing there, there’s nothing there. But after enduring her lectures and surviving her training… are you really going to flinch from her love?”

Satori reached out again. Her face burning, Reimu tried to lean back, but pinned against the railing there was nowhere to go… and a hand traced a caress through her hair and down the side of her face. Right where Kasen had touched her earlier.

It was too much. Instinctive reflexes kicked in, and her hand shot forwards as Reimu threw a burst of amulets at her. Satori darted to the side, the talismans sailing harmlessly past her and out into the open air. The mind-reader didn’t give the danmaku a second glance, watching as Reimu scrambled away, gaining precious distance. But this time Satori didn’t pursue, instead turning to leave.

But not without one final shot.

“Take it from someone who’s seen a lot of families, Reimu. A good mom is a wonderful thing to have.”

Satori had been well pleased with a long day’s work. Right up until the point where she realized Okuu was missing. Chasing her down was the last thing she wanted to be doing tonight; there was a new Agatha Chris Q. novel she was missing out on… but the bird brain just had to skip out like this.

For some reason the mansion’s front gate was unguarded, so she took the simple expedient of flying over it, landing at the front door and letting herself in.

Looking around, it was fairly late in the evening, and a number of the partygoers had either retired for the night or outright succumbed to the alcohol. Unfortunately, there were still far too many conscious people to make searching for her pet’s thoughts a viable option. (One of many reasons she disliked parties.) She’d have to do this the old fashioned way.

Hm. An initial scan of the room failed to unearth her pet, and the Scarlet Devil Mansion was big enough that searching room by room could take hours, especially if Okuu was wandering around aimlessly. Asking Sakuya would be ideal, but the maid looked to be deep in an earnest discussion with Meiling and Remilia. Who else could she ask? Hm… Aya was engaged in conversation with a white wolf tengu (which from flickers of thoughts seemed to be about actual business), and Kasen was… was she having a tender moment? With Reimu?

Satori pulled her third eye away, so as not to intrude. She did need to find her pet, but she could at least search the obvious locations before bothering anyone. It was then that she spied a witch flying overhead on a broom; someone who just so happened to know the mansion very well, and even looked to be searching for someone herself.

“Marisa,” she called out, flying up. “have you seen Okuu?”

The witch’s face contorted in fury as she pulled out her mini-hakkero.

“Satori! You’ve got a lot of nerve!” she roared.

Being a mind reader, Satori was able to piece together what had happened, and why Marisa was so angry. This did not give her the time necessary to do anything about it.

[Love Sign - Master Spark]

When the laser died down, Satori picked herself up out of the resulting crater, a little dazed. Right behind Marisa, a bandage-wrapped satori tapped the witch on the shoulder, causing her to shriek and nearly fall off her broom.

“Nice shot! Did you get me?”

The perpetrator pulled the bandages off her face, revealing green eyes, green hair that had been poorly dyed towards pink, and an extremely wide grin. For just a moment, a silence settled over the room

And, because fate (or possibly Remilia) had a sense of humor, Okuu chose this moment to appear, wandering out from a side hallway with a yawn.

“Oh! Hi Koishi! When did you get here?” Okuu blinked. “And why do you have Satori’s costume?”

There was the sound of breaking glass, as the wineglass Kasen was holding shattered in her hand, it’s contents spraying everywhere. She and the shrine maiden next to her were both going red from embarrassment and anger… something not helped by Remilia’s uncontrollable laughter.

Or the way Aya was pulling out her camera.

“I’m going to kill her,” Reimu swore, pulling out her gohei.

“Now, now, Reimu.” Kasen said, darkly. “We can both kill her.”

Several spellcards were declared at once as Reimu, Kasen, and Marisa all chased a cackling Koishi out the mansion, with Aya and her camera in hot pursuit.

Satori scowled. She also fully intended to kill her sister, but it was more than clear she’d have to wait her turn. But for now, she turned her attention to the other available target.

“Okuu! What do you have to say for yourself?”

Okuu tilted her head, thinking about it for a moment, then rushed forwards and gave her a hug. “Thanks for letting me attend the party, Satori! It was so much fun!”

No. No, she had very good reason to be mad, and she wasn’t going to let Okuu distract her from that. It didn’t matter how earnest or sweet she was being.

“Okuu, I didn’t say you could attend the party.” she said, trying to keep her face and voice stern. “You were supposed to keep an eye on the Hell of Blazing Fires! Orin had to cover for you!”

“But you did!” Okuu cried, squeezing her harder. “You said I could be responsible at the party!”

“That was Koishi! You can’t tell the difference between me and my sister?!” Satori demanded.

“B-but her hair was pink and she read my mind!” her pet pleaded.

Seeing her memories, Satori put a hand to her face. She was going to have to drill into the bird’s mind that mind-reading was only proof of identity if it wasn’t a thought that any idiot could have guessed. And getting Okuu to understand that would absolutely kill an evening or three. She groaned at the thought.

“Oh.” Okuu sniffled. “Did I do a bird brain again?”

She sighed. This had been significantly more forethought and planning than she’d expected from Koishi. And it wasn’t fair to Okuu to blame her for being outsmarted.

“It’s not your fault,” she said, finally returning the hug and petting the hell raven. “Koishi’s the one I’m mad at for being sneaky.”

Okuu babbled thank-you’s and sorry’s for a full minute as she leaned into the petting. Satori gave her the time; it did wonders for calming herself down, and it wasn’t like she’d be catching Koishi any time this evening.

“Um, excuse me?”

Satori turned to the new voice… or tried to.

“Okuu, I need you to let go.”

Her pet promptly shifted into her bird form, jumping into Satori’s hands for additional petting as she switched conversations. And found herself staring at the white wolf tengu with the extremely fluffy ears and tail. The white wolves had always been particularly appealing, but with their sense of dignity and how quickly tengu closed ranks, it was almost impossible to get one alone. And now one was approaching her.

In her hands, Okuu preened under a particularly intense moment of petting.

“Satori, your… uh, sister mentioned that the Underground was interested in trading away oni sake?” the white wolf tengu asked.

Wait. This tengu hadn’t realized that was Koishi either? Come to think of it, had anybody at the party noticed. Fooling Okuu was one thing, but how had Koishi gotten away with this in front of everyone? Were Gensokyo’s incident resolvers all just idiots?

Satori shook her head. There was a more important thing in front of her - er, more important things in general. “With the right incentive, perhaps,” she said cautiously. “Could you think back through the conversation so I know what she said?”

As she scanned through Momiji’s memories, Satori had to bite her lip to keep herself from smiling too widely. The pro-satori articles were whatever, but having a white wolf tengu down in Chireiden once a week? And the same one at that, with a blank check to assign her some of her pets’ duties for a few hours?

And even better, one that was looking for advice, and for her work to be appreciated?

She really, really shouldn’t let her sister get away with this kind of stunt. But this was a magnificent peace offering. Yeesss, it would take a little time, and she’d have to be careful not to go too quickly but Momiji would feel very appreciated in Chireiden.

“Uh, Satori? Your lip is bleeding.” the white wolf asked.

“Apologies, I was deep in thought,” she said, wiping away the evidence. “But I agree with Koishi. If you visit Chireiden tomorrow - no, better make that the day after tomorrow, I’ll have a contract drawn up and we can work out any last particulars.”

The white wolf tengu bowed. “Thank you, miss Komeiji. I look forwards to working with you.”

It took effort, but Satori managed to keep her expression at a polite smile as the tengu walked away, petting Okuu to keep her hands occupied. She may have gotten a little enthusiastic, because the bird actually squirmed out of her grip and changed back.

Okuu looked over at the fluffy wolf. “Satori, are we gonna have a new-”

“Shush!” she quieted Okuu. “But yes. Come on, let’s go home."