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It was an unseasonably warm day when Kazami Yuuka first attended a festival at the Hakurei Shrine. It was little more than an act of idle curiosity, sparked when the shrine slipped into the corner of her eye as she drifted from one hill to another. Sparing a brief flare of magic to quell the lesser youkai of her flower patch, she set off towards the shrine’s staircase, stopping by to check a few of her favourite trees as she passed.
When she arrived, the shrine maiden of the time was perched atop the gate at the end of the stairs, casting a baleful glare over the edges of the woodlands. She could sense a few weak youkai lurking in the trees, and from the ash-smeared talismans littered about the edges of the stairs, not all had the sense to stay there. Such things were only the concern of weak youkai, of course; she could have slipped past the forest's barrier with practiced ease, but Yuuka believed in a certain degree of polite hospitality. If she was to enter the shrine, it would be through the front gate, head held high.
On a more literal note, she tilted her head just far enough up to meet the shrine maiden’s eyes for a moment; with a brief flare of magic, she unfurled her long, green hair from beneath her sun hat. As brown eyes met red, the shrine maiden leapt from the gate, descending towards her in the midst of a whirlwind of talismans.
“Am I unwelcome?” she asked, smiling serenely.
The shrine maiden alighted between her and the closest group of human visitors, each hand clutching a fistful of talismans; if she had acknowledged the question at all, her only answer was a cold stare.
“Well,” she said, dropping into a practised curtsy without once breaking eye contact, “if this is the extent of your hospitality, I will take my leave.” As she floated back away from the stairs, she grazed the tip of one step with her toe; the stone shattered, leaving exposed earth in its place. With a solemn nod, she turned away just as a series of shoots sprung from the ground; three bamboo stalks, arranged in a triangle, with each growing precisely to a given height. “My regards for the next year, Hakurei.”
She was sincere, of course. If her tone and the look on her face might have led the shrine maiden to take it as a threat, that was the shrine maiden's problem. She turned and left, giving her a small four-fingered wave as she flew over the heads of the small trickle of humans coming up the stairs, to a chorus of gasps. A few talismans, too shoddy to be the shrine maiden's work, fizzled against the edges of her dress.
Yuuka did not return to the shrine during that shrine maiden’s tenure; her point had been made, and humans rarely took her points politely. She simply tended her gardens in peace, barring the occasional short-lived indignant interruption. Say what you will for fairies, but they at least have a natural excuse for not learning from their mistakes; humans, youkai, and gods alike could not be reliably taught even by example. Of course, with Gensokyo’s so-called sages behind them, shrine maidens were difficult examples to set.
In a few weeks or decades, she caught the fairies gossiping about how the new shrine maiden was finding her feet. If she were to believe the rumours, the girl had kicked down the doors of Hell and Makai over a case of vandalism; a faintly nostalgic thought. Perhaps she would pay them a visit herself, one day. But the tall tales woke her curiosity again, and soon enough, she followed a small flock of fairies over to the latest celebration.
This time, she passed the gates without event, and was even welcomed by a nervous-looking villager at the gate. She smiled and thanked the man, who didn’t quite meet her eyes. It was nice to be appreciated, she thought. As he ran off to find a replacement, she slipped seamlessly into the crowd.
This particular festival was being held to celebrate the shrine’s reconstruction, lending at least some truth to the fairies’ escalating exaggerations. On the other hand, the new shrine maiden was a slip of a girl, stumbling over herself as she flitted between groups of villagers. A giant turtle, of all things, floated behind her, reminding her of the various names of figures prominent enough to expect the shrine maiden to know them. Hardly the image of the harrowing of hell.
If the floating testudine cared to remark on the number of curious youkai at the festival, the shrine maiden was paying him no mind. With just a cursory glance, Yuuka could see a kasha poking a drunken merchant with a stick outside an udon stand run by what looked to be two kappa, one on the other’s shoulders, wearing a bulky and poorly-fit apron; in the corner of her eye, she even thought she spotted one of the sages, whispering something to a chuckling ghost.
Gensokyo is a land of many things, but subtlety was never one.
Yuuka drifted between the stalls, striking idle conversation with the various humans and inhumans around them. One particularly memorable stall was managed by the daughter of a village florist, and Yuuka wished her sincere success with her talents at flower arrangement.
With the pleasantries attended to, and a curious crop of festival foods tucked in a basket, Yuuka retired to a far corner of the shrine grounds. She sunk into a small shrub as a seat, its branches and trunk shifting to accommodate her form.
“Wow!” a young girl’s voice shouted from behind her. As Yuuka turned her head around, she saw a young girl, dressed in a shabby witch’s outfit. “You’re not human.” the girl said, looking at her curiously.
“And you are.” Yuuka said, turning back towards her basket. Rummaging through her purchases, she resolved to start with the takoyaki. “Shouldn’t you be back with the others?”
“Nah,” the girl said, as she ran in front of Yuuka and struck a proud pose, “I’m a witch!”
“So you are.” Yuuka said, vaguely nodding towards your hat. “Surely then, a witch would know better than to trouble a youkai at rest?” She smiled, her teeth slightly changing shape to resemble thorns.
“Oh. Uh. Yeah, probably.” the girl said, slightly miffed. “But only for now! I’m going to catch up to her soon enough, just you wait!” She pointed off towards the crowd, where the shrine maiden was still being mobbed by the villagers. “And even if she’s still beating me, I’ll be Gensokyo’s number-two youkai exterminator in no time!”
“So you’re saying I should kill you now, and save myself the trouble?”
The girl paled.
“Just kidding.” Yuuka winked. “I don’t think you’d be able to entertain me quite yet, little witch.”
“Maybe someday, big youkai!” the girl said, crossing her arms and staring Yuuka in the eye. “Sooner than you think, I’ll bet.”
Yuuka chuckled. “I’m sure you will.”
Yuuka watched the girl as she walked off, only to see her meet up with what could only be an evil spirit, lurking at the edge of the grounds. A surprising combination, but not one which warranted any major attention. She turned back to her basket, and soon enough, her thoughts brought her back to her gardens. At the time, she thought it a briefly amusing encounter, and soon enough it slipped to the back of her mind.
Several months later, when the girl and the shrine maiden kicked down the doors of her dream self’s manor, Yuuka found herself briefly at a loss for words. Perhaps, she decided, she ought to be paying slightly more attention to Gensokyo’s humans. And besides, Elly often told her she could do with getting out more often, meeting more people, that sort of thing.
The festival food wasn't too bad, either, once she could get in. Perhaps she could get used to it.