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Fall leaves danced around the shrine, their color shining in the light of the brilliant sun that drenched the sky in orange in purple. The wind smelled of burning leaves and left a chilling impression on skin as it passed. Despite being small for a shrine, it towered above, it’s wood brilliantly shining like a needle, yet frail against the cold. The barrier, just behind it, vibrated with the small force, barely noticeable. Oni and Tsukumogami alike could be seen drinking, humans among them, all as equals.
He’s been here before.
Ishikirimaru knows it.
Reimu stood next to him, a cup of sake in her hand. Her ofuda leaned against a tree, and her smile was content. No doubt zoning out, staring at some of the girls there at the small festival. He didn’t blame her, they were quite colorful, despite not being the type that was into women.
“So… You live here?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah. Don’t you?”
“No shinshoku? Just you? ”
“He died in 1996. I think you’d like him, his name was SinGyoku I think. Silent character.”
Ishikirimaru sucked in a breath, squeezing his purification rod, of which was fluttering in the wind, the sky now twilight.
“...”
“You wanna change the subject, uh… Ishikirimaru, was it?”
“Mhm.”
“Okay then.”
Reimu looked around at the shrine grounds, it’s light quickly fading, before colors danced into the darkening sky. Danmaku glistened brightly, bullets diving into specks of light. Ishikirimaru’s eyes lit up.
“Huh? What’s that?”
“Eh? You don’t know what danmaku is?”
“No! It sounds interesting.”
“Ah. In any case, a priest needs a good spell card. Wanna make one later?”
Ishikirimaru turned to her, his pale face glowing with the colorful remnants of the battle above. She was a great deal shorter, though something struck a chord with him.
“You’d really let me do that?”
“Duh.”