Chapter Text
“Hey, uh, Reimu?” Marisa called nervously from across the living quarters. “I think Fuji is sick.”
On one of the many Sundays Marisa spent trespassing at the Hakurei Shrine, she’d already had the gall to make no sense before noon. Reimu looked up from her newspaper long enough to throw the most annoyed glare she could muster.
“You already know what I’m going to say.”
“Rocks can get sick too!” Marisa cried, pulling Fuji out from its shrine and cradling it between her palms. “Look, look!”
Marisa scooted on her knees across the floor of the tatami mat, inching her way over to Reimu. “It’s flaking, see?”
Reimu squinted. Sure enough, as Marisa thrust the rock up into her face, she could make out flecks of dust and dirt steadily sloughing off the crust of the rock. She raised an eyebrow.
“Huh. Isn’t that normal for rocks?”
“Not this much!” Marisa whined, wiggling her fingers against the rock. As she did so, bits and pieces of gravel and sand slurried down the skin of her fingertips in excess.
Reimu put her newspaper aside, sitting upright on her heels. “What, uh...what exactly do you want me to do about it?”
“We need to take it to a rock doctor,” Marisa pleaded, her face completely serious.
Reimu had to resist the urge to laugh. “A rock doctor.”
“Yes!”
She crossed her arms. “A doctor who specializes in only rocks.”
“Yes, yes!”
“Marisa,” she groaned. “Who the hell in Gensokyo would explicitly be able to treat a rock?”
“What about Tenshi? We could ask her to fix it!” she cried.
“Tenshi already got the praise and attention she wanted. What makes you think she’s going to put any more time and effort into these things?” Reimu argued.
“What about Remilia or Sanae? They both know lots about the rocks!”
“If you expect me to go on another play date or get any closer to Moriya Shrine than I have to, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“What if we go see Patch—“
Reimu’s glare was fiery. Marisa gulped down the rest of her sentence.
“You pick somewhere, then!” Marisa whined, still gently cupping Fuji with worry etched into her face.
Reimu sighed deeply. Seeing Marisa upset, even over a rock, felt disturbing to her heart. She wracked her brain for a compromise.
“Eientei,” she finally offered.
“Eientei?”
“Eirin knows more about unconventional medicine and healing than anyone I can think of off the top of my head. If anyone can figure out how to cure a rock, it’s her.”
“Bingo! Reimu, you’re a genius!” Marisa cried, scrambling to her feet. “I’ll get the Fuji Sack, you grab my broom!”
“Right now? And don’t call it the Fuji Sack!” Reimu yelled, aggravated at the sudden inconvenience as she peeled herself off the floor. She stretched lazily, eyeing Marisa bustling about the room, cobbling together a mishmash of junk and rock-caring supplies with energy she could only dream of having.
“Right now! There’s no time to waste!” Marisa announced firmly, carefully nestling Fuji in her sling bag, swaddled gently in its new ocean-blue wave handkerchief. “Get on the broom!”
Reimu did as she was told, ambling out into the annoying sun, climbing onto the annoying broom, and clutching onto her annoying partner as the ground disappeared beneath her feet.
As always, today was also annoying.
—-
“It’s not a rock.”
Reimu and Marisa exchanged baffled glances, their jaws practically on the floor as they stared blankly at Eirin.
“Excuse me?” the shrine maiden asked, completely floored at the assertion.
“It’s not a rock,” Eirin repeated firmly, pressing a stethoscope to Fuji’s...stomach?
“That’s a rock,” Reimu insisted. “It’s literally the perfect picture of a rock.”
“What is it if not a rock?” Marisa added, peering curiously at Fuji up on the improvised examination table—a coffee table, to be precise.
Eirin plucked the stethoscope’s earbuds from her head. “We had a similar problem with our Luna a week ago. She started shedding like this, and we found out something interesting when we took a closer look.”
Eirin rummaged through her knapsack of medical utensils atop the table, shuffling through clanking metal and clinking glass until she drew a tiny, petite paintbrush. Reimu did what she could to focus on Eirin’s explanation, and not to ask her why she named her rock something so uninspired and stupid.
“I guess I should clarify,” she continued. “It’s a rock, technically, but it’s not just a rock.”
Reimu and Marisa watched with rapt fascination as Eirin gently tickled Fuji with the thin fibers of the brush, scattering bits and pieces of flaking dust and grit onto the tabletop. Slowly, the crumbling crust began to sift away, revealing, at last, a single glistening speck of cerulean, peeking out from beneath the rocky coating.
“Oh my god, it really is a mineral,” Reimu muttered, unsure how to process what she was seeing.
“It’s hatching!” Marisa cried with a beaming smile, throwing her hands in the air.
“No, you idiot, it’s a gemstone,” Reimu growled. “The rock is a geode.”
“That still counts as hatching!” Marisa continued, waving her arms dramatically with glee.
Eirin laughed. “It’s not sick at all. The rocks have been geodes all along. Perhaps this is what Tenshi meant when she talked about blessings after love and care.”
“Don’t you usually have to bash these things in with a hammer?” Reimu asked, ignoring the look of absolute terror on Marisa’s face. “Why is it emerging naturally?”
Eirin set the paintbrush back down on the table. “Either erosion or some other intervening force, probably. How long ago did your rock start shedding?”
“Marisa only noticed it today. We rushed right over as soon as we figured out something was off.”
Eirin tapped her finger against the table. “Interesting. Luna started shedding a few days ago, and her progress has been rapid since. I’d say maybe around the time of the festival.”
Reimu crossed her legs and her arms, shifting in her chair. “Tenshi.”
“Pardon?”
“Tenshi did something flashy at the festival. Waved her little magic sword around and claimed she was bringing more blessings or whatever.”
Marisa’s eyes widened in realization. “She must’ve made all the rocks start shedding!”
“Then that means every rock in Gensokyo is a geode?” Eirin asked, deep in thought herself.
“That’s so cool!” Marisa cried again, her eyes practically sparkling. “Fuji is evolving!”
“You said your rock is doing it a lot faster, right?” Reimu asked, gesturing lazily to Fuji. “Can I see what you mean?”
Eirin cupped her hands over her mouth, yelling half heartedly behind her. “Kaguyaaa!”
Distantly, from another room outside her office, a lazy voice called back. “Whaaaat?”
“Go get Luna!”
“You go get her,” Kaguya argued, yelling across the hall.
“I’m in the middle of something, go get her for me!”
“Eiriiiin,” she whined.
“Get off your ass and go get the damn rock!” Eirin growled. The shuffling of feet and muffled grumbling seemed to satisfy her at last.
Marisa swung her feet back and forth in her chair. “Same old same old?”
Eirin sighed. “To her credit, she usually takes care of Luna when I’m busy.”
“I got it, I got it,” Kaguya mumbled lazily, shuffling down the hall with great effort as she heaved a massive glass tank through the doorway.
“Thank you, princess,” Eirin said in earnest.
“Don’t ‘princess’ me, you brute,” Kaguya whined. “I was busy.”
Reimu raised an eyebrow. “Napping?”
Kaguya yawned. “Napping.”
The two girls jumped as Kaguya slammed the glass tank down on the table with a bang, rattling their chairs. Marisa scooted Fuji out of the way in the nick of time—they almost didn’t need a hammer.
“Yeesh, watch it!” she snapped.
Reimu inched her face closer to the tank. Upon closer inspection, the base was littered with bamboo shoots and sliced carrots. The sides were carefully decorated with hanging moss and sticks, and even a tiny cup of water had been nestled in the corner. Atop a round wooden slab in the center of the terrarium sat something truly divine—a cluster of pointed amethyst, spearing upwards and outwards in every direction as it twinkled in the light. Each catch of sunshine sent it shining and flickering like little stars, shimmering against the glass. Its luster was only outmatched by the sparkle in Marisa’s eyes.
“Oooooh,” she murmured excitedly. “It’s so pretty!”
Reimu was inclined to agree. “They really do come out nicely when they’re done, don’t they?”
Eirin nodded, standing back proudly to admire her sparkling child. “When Luna started shedding, we changed her environment to keep an eye on her. Imagine our surprise when, days later, she’s like a star in the sky.”
She almost looks expensive, Reimu resisted the urge to say. Even in the throes of poverty, selling their child would inevitably break Marisa’s heart—but she’d be lying if she said the thought never crossed her poor mind.
She leaned back in her chair. “What do you plan to do with the geode now?”
Kaguya tapped the glass innocently, still stifling a yawn as she did so. “Love it just the same. Luna is still Luna.”
“And Fuji will still be Fuji,” Marisa stated proudly. “Although a little bit more sparkly.”
Reimu shrugged. “Well, this has been interesting.”
“Thank you for your help!” Marisa exclaimed, jumping up from her chair and clasping Eirin’s hand.
Eirin jolted, startled by the sudden movement, but laughed nervously as Marisa shook her hand vigorously. “Uh, you’re welcome? I think?”
Reimu smirked. “You were the only doctor we could think of who’d be crazy enough to treat rocks.”
Marisa rolled Fuji up into a little handkerchief ball, scooping it off the table and into her open sling bag safely. “What should we do now?”
Eirin plucked the tiny paintbrush from the table, extending it to Marisa. “Just keep brushing, if you’re so excited. It’ll come out naturally, but you can give your little one a bit of a helping hand.”
Marisa beamed. “I’ll brush him every day, I promise!”
Reimu snorted. Now we’re brushing the damn rock.
But she smiled at the sight of Marisa, happy and upbeat, a long shot from the worried look of earlier that had tugged at her heartstrings.
She sighed. This rock business was ridiculous, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.
—-
The flight home was quiet, the two girls nestled close as they soared against the backdrop of the summer sky, sunshine beating hard against their backs. Towering bamboo stalks rushed past them below, Marisa focused firmly at the helm with an endless smile on her face as she steadied her broom straight.
Reimu snuggled close into Marisa’s hair, closing her eyes as she relished the scent.
“Hey, Reimu?” Marisa asked without moving her head.
Reimu didn’t move, grateful for Marisa’s stillness. “Mhm?” she murmured lazily.
“Thanks for taking care of Fuji with me.”
Reimu scoffed. “Didn’t expect ‘finding a rock doctor’ as something on my to-do list today.”
“No, not that. I mean...thank you, for everything.”
Reimu pulled her face out of Marisa’s hair, straightening up. “Hmm?”
“You could’ve told me no and left me to mess with the rock thing on my own. Could’ve kicked me out and hung me out to dry, but you didn’t. I’m grateful for that.”
Reimu felt her face heating up. The praise was a bit embarrassing.
Marisa adjusted her hat slightly before continuing. “I was really scared you’d shoot me down, at first. Didn’t think you’d be...interested.”
Suddenly, Marisa’s words felt sharp, pointed. Loaded. Reimu resisted the urge to dig her nails into Marisa’s waist, choosing her next words carefully. “I...wouldn’t have said anything if you didn’t. I’m...grateful for that.”
Marisa chuckled, her laugh reverberating through Reimu’s body pressed flush against her own. “I thought maybe you’d make fun of me, or maybe think I was insulting you somehow.”
“I know you were being serious. If you weren’t, I would’ve made fun of you,” she muttered, suppressing a smirk.
“I’m sure you would’ve. That’s what I like about you.”
Reimu’s heart skipped a beat, but she didn’t dare interrupt Marisa as she spoke.
“It was a long time coming, but I hadn’t been sure how to ask. Do you remember the day I did?”
Reimu nodded silently, but Marisa could feel the movement of her head against her back. She smiled, continuing.
“I think about it a lot. I go back and replay it in my head sometimes when I’m lonely, getting to see the face you made, and how flustered you got. It’s a personal favorite of mine.”
Reimu bristled. “Shut up.”
Marisa laughed. “I’m imagining whatever face you’re making back there right now, too,” she teased to the sound of anguished groaning. “But I’m...every day, I’m happy that you said yes. I’m happy all over again.”
Reimu’s eyes sparkled at the tenderness in Marisa’s voice, content to drink in the soft silence that settled between them. She pressed the side of her head against Marisa’s back, casting her eyes downwards to the blurs of bamboo stalks that passed by far below them, picturesque on a backdrop of the setting sun. Up in the sky, it was only her and Marisa, alone in a world centered around a broomstick, in the midst of a moment she wished would freeze forever. Her thoughts wandered, and she wrapped her arms tighter around the magician, snuggling as close as she could.
So absorbed was she in Marisa’s warmth that she almost didn’t hear the distant whistling of rushing wind.
When she chanced a glance downward, she barely had time to process the brilliant fireball that hurtled without abandon directly in her direction.
“Marisa!” Reimu cried, frantically shaking the magician’s shoulder. Snapping out of her own stupor and laying her eyes on the same rapidly-approaching sight, Marisa barely managed to jerk her broomstick upwards, her stomach lurching as she clung tightly to the wooden handle. As the two girls jutted sharply up into the air, the unmistakable whoosh of crackling flame volleyed past just inches below, a burst of heat radiating from its fiery path.
“What on earth?” Marisa asked, baffled. “Are you okay?”
Reimu nodded frantically, her face pressed hard against Marisa’s back. “I’m fine, I’m fine! What the hell was that?”
Marisa didn’t have the chance to answer, the same glint of flame catching her eye as another ball of fire blasted towards the girls--this time far closer. Marisa pushed and jerked her broom violently, just out of harm’s way once more as the fireball whistled past, fizzling out in the air just meters behind them.
“Danmaku,” she breathed.
Reimu flinched, wrapping her arms as tightly around Marisa as she could. “Danmaku? From where?”
“I don’t know!” Marisa shouted, her sights already lingering on more balls of fire carving a homing path straight towards her--first in pairs, then in sets, until fireballs dotted the sky like freckles, each one a meteor waiting to crash. “Hang on!”
Reimu resisted the urge to shut her eyes tightly as Marisa navigated, dodging each shot with as much sloppy precision as she could muster. The broom rocked and rolled in every conceivable direction, spinning and flipping violently in a way that almost made Reimu nauseous. Bursts of hot air rushed against her face with each pass, and she struggled to keep her eyes open in the face of the intense temperature. In the midst of her tumbling, she scanned the ground to the best of her ability--although this quickly proved far more difficult than she’d expected. The thick bamboo below blotted out the ground, sharp leafy stalks instead lining as far as the eye could see. But barely, just barely, if she squinted, she could see the faintest shimmer of light as a tiny red wisp was born, just before erupting and evolving into the intense flame that launched squarely in her and Marisa’s direction.
“Down there!” she cried, pointing a shaky finger towards the mass of bamboo.
Marisa chanced a glance towards the area, but had difficulty seeing as well. “Where? I don’t see it?”
Still firmly keeping one arm wrapped around Marisa’s waist, Reimu rifled through her pockets frantically, breathing a sigh of relief when her fingers closed around a talisman. “I’ve got it, just keep us steady!”
Marisa did as she was told, doing her best to still her broom in the air momentarily. “Hurry!”
Reimu closed her eyes, murmuring a stream of prayers and incantations under her breath as she charged what may have been their only chance at retaliation. When she opened her eyes to deliver the blow, she was far too late, her vision already filled with fire.
“Reimu!” Marisa shouted, just barely lifting her broom into the air in time for another fireball to pass. In that moment, Reimu came to two separate, sobering realizations: the talisman that she had clutched so fiercely a moment ago had floated from her grip, blown away in the fiery wind before crumpling into ashes. Secondly, the talisman wasn’t the only thing that had caught fire.
“Marisa, the broom!” Reimu cried, frantically moving closer to the magician as the straw bristles ignited, flame slowly encroaching in her direction.
Marisa scowled, grabbing Reimu’s hand tightly. “Don’t let go of me!” she shouted over the roar of wind all around them.
Reimu nodded, clinging as fiercely as she could to Marisa, and followed her lead as Marisa pulled her off the safety of the broom, the open air suddenly enveloping the two girls as they spun into a freefall, rapidly plummeting to the forest floor at breakneck speeds. Reimu’s eyes widened in horror at the sight of the approaching bamboo stalks, waiting patiently to spear her to ribbons with their razor-sharp tips. Everything happened too quickly--the whistle of the broom jetting down to earth with them, the fear that roiled in her heart, and the comfort of the look on Marisa’s face, protective and confident.
Marisa nodded. “Trust me.”
Reimu obliged with all her heart.
From the pocket of her apron, Marisa unsheathed her mini-Hakkero, steadying herself in the air with Reimu held in an iron grip at her side. Her turn had come to recite incantations, and with each word, the mini-Hakkero glowed brighter, a rainbow of shimmering lights quickly increasing in luminosity.
“Master…”
Reimu squeezed her eyes shut, clinging to Marisa for dear life, praying with every fiber of her being that this would work.
“Spark!”
The boom of released energy was instant, jettisoning the girls upwards and away from the blast as the loud droning of raw magical energy filled Reimu’s ears uncomfortably. Their descent softened, Reimu cracked her eyes open, watching in abject awe as the magic cut a path straight through the bamboo, boring deep into the earth below and annihilating any foliage that stood in its way. Her heart pounded in her chest, her stomach still doing flips from the rapid descent. Marisa kept her hand as steady as she could, shaking with the effort of guiding the force of a Master Spark with one hand. Reimu cursed herself for being extra baggage--with both hands, Marisa would’ve made quick work of the blast.
“We’re still falling,” Marisa called over the incessant hum of the magic, still digging deep into the ground. “It’s gonna be a rough landing, brace yourself!”
Reimu buried her face in Marisa’s chest, the crackle of leaves filling her ears as the two girls finally, violently, made contact with the ground.
---
When she opened her eyes, Reimu immediately squeezed them shut once more, tearing up from the smoke and dust that rose from their newly-formed crater. She hacked and coughed in earnest, her vision blurry and her mouth full of dirt. A general soreness pervaded her body, and her ankle ached each time she so much as twitched, but she could push her way up to a staggered standing position. The cause for alarm was more so the lack of weight beneath her.
“Marisa?” she cried, her tone escalating from concern to panic as she swatted her hands through the dust cloud, searching desperately for the magician. “Marisa!”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Marisa called weakly, sputtering and coughing in equal measure to the shrine maiden. With difficulty, she, too, had managed to rise to her feet, haphazardly dusting off the thick layers of earth that now coated her once-white apron. “Thank you for flying Air Marisa,” she joked.
Reimu breathed a sigh of relief, limping to the girl’s side as quickly as her ankle would allow. “I’m sorry, I didn’t charge my shot in time, this is my fault--”
Marisa shook her head, grasping both of Reimu’s hands tightly in her own. “No, no, don’t do that! I’m sorry I couldn’t think of anything else sooner. Are you okay? You’re limping.”
Reimu winced. “I think I landed on my ankle. Hopefully it’ll go away though.”
Marisa pulled Reimu in close for a hug, cradling her head gently in her hands. “Scared me for a second there. Try not to walk on it, okay? We’ll find a way out of here.”
Reimu snuggled into the hug, but her thoughts turned to an abrupt (and rather unimportant, in the moment) realization at the sudden lack of pressure against her side, where a sling bag usually pressed into her hip during contact with Marisa.
“Marisa, where’s...Fuji?”
Marisa’s eyes widened, her hands instinctively moving to her waist, only to find, too, a startling lack of pressure. “Oh, crap.”
“Maybe it fell somewhere in here? You were wearing the bag when we fell,” Reimu offered.
Marisa nodded a bit too quickly. “Yeah, it’s in here somewhere. Definitely. Don’t really know where else it would go. Just hope it didn’t...break.”
Reimu turned away, eyes already prepared to scan the crater for their lost rock. “It should still be in--”
Reimu’s voice trailed off as the dust cloud gradually parted, her vision clearing and her breathing normalizing. With her newfound sight inside the crater, she did, to her credit, immediately find the sling bag. What she hadn’t expected was the two tiny girlish figures already coagulating around it, tugging haphazardly at the strap as they struggled to lift the bag into the air. When she inched forward slightly, their heads snapped in her direction, beady eyes locked onto her every move.
Reimu only raised an eyebrow, but Marisa’s face had already flushed, leaving her chuckling nervously as she tugged on Reimu’s sleeve, pointing up at the rim of the crater. Reimu’s face came to reflect her own at the sight of more little dolls encircling the crater itself, tiny faces peering over the edge and down at the two trapped girls below like prey.
Reimu instinctively took a step backwards, being careful not to aggravate her ankle. “Is that…”
Marisa followed suit, pressing her back against Reimu’s as the two girls walled themselves against one another. “Shanghai and Hourai. Of course.”
Reimu winced. “Then that means…”
“That you have something of mine,” a furious voice called from the rim of the crater. Marisa gulped, and alarm bells rang in Reimu’s head.
“Shit,” Marisa muttered.
When the line of dolls parted, what stood at the rim of the crater, towering over their tiny forms, was a very, very angry dollmaker.
“And I’d like it back.”