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Chapter Text

They had smiled at each other as the two of them sat side by side on the Shrine’s porch. The orange sky before them made them feel warm even as the bitter autumn winds began to blow across the grounds. It was going to be a cold winter, but such a thing wasn’t on their minds right now. Gusts of wind made their hair fly in wild directions and aided in cooling their tea.

“I should head back home soon,” Marisa sighed, taking a gulp of tea, and leaning back to stare up at the clouds. It had been another boring, average, peaceful day. There had been many of those recently. “The forest is usually crawling with critters the darker it gets.”

Reimu shrugged. The witch expected such a response. She was probably waiting for Marisa to up and leave, probably because she didn’t want to have to cook for 2 with the meagre income she had laying around. Still, there was something off about the way she stiffened. Marisa would be back, she always visited.

Having finished her tea, she handed the empty cup to Reimu who placed it on the tea tray she had brought them out on. Marisa stood up, dusted off some imaginary dirt from her skirt and pretended that she hadn’t noticed anything wrong with the shrine maiden next to her. Grinning, she patted her on the shoulder before gathering her hat and broom.

“See you later!” She gave a little wave to the girl on the porch. Reimu gave a small smile, one far less sincere and much smaller than the one they had shared earlier and scurried back inside with her tea.

“Goodbye,” was what she shouted as she ran inside.

It had been a week since they had sat on that porch together. And yet, Reimu was nowhere to be found.

Marisa wouldn’t have been concerned- after all, Reimu had a life outside of sitting at the Hakurei Shrine all day. Or, at least, any other person in that role would have. Perhaps she was just investigating an incident. But why not involve Marisa? And what kind of an incident was it that Marisa didn’t know about it in the first place?

She had asked Alice if she’d seen Reimu recently, but of course the magician had not. In fact, she had only seen the shrine maiden a few weeks prior to the last time Marisa had seen her. This investigation was going nowhere.

Marisa had been to the Shrine, of course. There was no-one there. Nobody answered the door, nobody was making noise inside. She couldn’t bring herself to just walk in. Something felt horribly wrong about that. Like she was invading a space, like that was somewhere that she was forbidden from entering. Nonsense, of course. Marisa had wandered in and out of the Shrine all the time without Reimu being present, so there was no need to feel bad about doing so now. But something was screaming at the back of her mind that she shouldn’t do it. Something. Her intuition, maybe a premonition- or perhaps it was a warning from someone far away.

She stood, just past the torii gate and stared ahead at the Shrine. It looked like it did last week, although it had more leaves littering it than ever. If she squinted, Marisa could almost imagine Reimu sitting there, waving at her. Maybe even tutting at her while she swept the grounds, annoyed to have a visitor whilst she was taking care of her yard.

But she wasn’t. There was no-one there. The cold autumn wind had only grown colder, and winter was close to setting in. Marisa shivered, unsure if it was the season or the eerie stillness that surrounded the sacred ground she stood on. Leaves billowed around her feet.

Don’t walk any further, the voice in her head whispered. Whatever lies in store, you are sure not to like. With her hands clenched into tight fists, Marisa decided to disregard those words and trudge forward into the shrine.

Nothing seemed amiss inside, apart from the lack of a shrine maiden. The floor wasn’t dirty, and there were no signs of a struggle like Marisa had expected. Reimu’s cherished kotatsu sat where it normally did. Her teapot sat in its usual home, but what concerned her were the cups.

Reimu was lazy. Everyone knew this. She hated hard work, or any work at all. But she didn’t like to live in squalor. So, knowing this, Marisa stared at the teacups they had drunk from last week with a mounting horror. Surely the shrine maiden would have washed them by now. Wouldn’t she have done so immediately? Marisa was sure that she had hurried inside to do just that. But the proof was there. She hadn’t.

Trying not to panic too much over this revelation, the magician continued further into the Shrine, eventually stopping outside the room that would be where Reimu slept. She had been in there before as the girl kept her spare futon in there for when Marisa decided to sleep over. Now, the whisper in her head became a scream.

You do not want to bear witness to this.

Hell will visit you early upon your discovery today.

Turn back.

Turn back!

You always were a foolish girl.

You will not like the future you will set in stone.

What resides in here is worse than a dead body.

Slam! Unable to take anymore, Marisa haphazardly slammed the sliding door of the room aside, blind with rage at a voice she could not at all comprehend. The red mist clouding her vision gave way to Reimu’s bedroom. It was as it always was. There was a small table with a mirror atop of it and a few bows and a hairbrush. A chest of drawers sat on the far side of the room, probably filled with her uniforms and her sleeping attire.  A single futon lay in the middle of all of it. Empty.

There was nothing there. Not a dead body, like Marisa had been secretly terrified of discovering, like the one the voice had taunted her with. Nothing was touched at all. Desperation kicked in and she began to pull open the drawers. Undergarments, clothing, sleepwear- all of them untouched. She shut them with a bang, running to the bathroom. Towels and soaps sat idle. She bit at her lip so hard it bled.

Everything in the house was perfectly untouched. There was no struggle, no robber coming in the middle of the night to steal some precious relics, no kidnapping. It really just looked like Reimu had ran inside with the teacups, remembered that she had something to do and left the Shrine.

If that’s the case then she should come back any day, Marisa thought. But where would she have gone?

“Boo!” Came a voice from behind her. Marisa would be ashamed to admit it, but she squealed. “Oh, you are too funny Kirisame. Really, you looked so lost in thought that I couldn’t help myself.”

Swivelling around, she looked the culprit in the face: Yukari. A vicious smirk sat on her lips as she stared down at her from within one of her many boundaries. Marisa couldn’t hold back her vitriol.

“Is this really a time to be trying to piss me off?” She barked, pointing a finger at the youkai accusingly. “Do you have something to do with this? Where the hell is she?”

At this, Yukari looked genuinely bewildered. “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

All of the wind in Marisa’s sails died as she actually analysed the change in Yukari’s demeaner. The gap youkai, who was once lounging in her boundary had suddenly shot up straight. Smirk gone; her face was contorted into one of extreme confusion. How could Yukari not know? She was Yukari!

Accusatory finger curling back into her fist, horror began to seep into Marisa’s conscience again. How could Yukari have no idea? Surely, surely, she knew something. Perhaps she was confused because she knew where Reimu was and had no idea why Marisa was so vicious towards her. That had to be it!

“It would make this a lot easier for the both of us if you spoke to me,” Yukari’s voice was cold, and the witch could hear a hint of concern appearing in her tone. “Perhaps you should stop staring at me with your mouth agape like a fish and start to use that loudmouth of yours.”

“Reimu’s gone,” Marisa spat out, genuinely unsure of how else to word it. “It’s been a week since I saw her. I dunno where she is, so I came here and I- the teacups are still out, and her clothes are there. Her rooms untouched. I thought all week that she was busy doing something for you or-or dealing with something she didn’t want to concern me with but it’s like she’s vanished. Yukari?”

Yakumo stared at her. Marisa felt, for the first time, why people feared youkai so terribly. There was a seriously non-human air around Yukari that she had not ever felt before, not even during the incident she was so closely involved in. Marisa had always been wary of her, she was a manipulative creature after all, but she had never feared her. In that moment, she did. She was scared of Yakumo Yukari. Now, she was shaking for a whole different reason.

“What do you mean vanished?” Is what the youkai eventually said. “Do you mean you think she was spirited away?”

“I don’t know,” Marisa couldn’t bear to keep looking her in the eyes. “I’m not sure. I only came in here to check if she was okay and- oh God this voice…”

At this, Yukari tilted her head to one side. This, it seemed, she was interested in.

“A voice?” There was a hint of a smile on her lips again. She looked almost normal now. “What kind of voice? What was it saying to you, Kirisame?”

Tell her, it rasped. It was an old voice, an ancient voice, something Marisa had never before heard in her life. The gap youkai. Tell her.

“It told me not to come into the shrine,” Marisa was starting to feel dizzy now. The voice, whatever it was, was beginning to make her vision twist. “Not to go into her room. That if I did something bad would happen. But that isn’t true, it can’t be true. Reimu will be fine and so will I. You know that. Yeah?”

Yakumo’s amusement turned into a very wry expression as she stared at the human before her. So weak. About to break. Humans are terrible at being happy. And they are terrible at doing what they are told.

“I’m not so sure,” the youkai sighed. “Perhaps Reimu will be alright. After all, it has only been a week since she was last at the Shrine. She could have, as you said, gotten busy. But I know nothing about that, which frankly does concern me. As for you, though, little magician girl… you should have taken heed of that voice inside of your head. But at least you listened to it just now. I would try your best not to make it angry.

“Since you seem so concerned, and with what I’ve learnt in this passing moment, I will look into this some more for you. So behave for now, Kirisame. I’ll update you more when I can.”

Before Marisa could even open her mouth to respond, the gap youkai had retreated into the unknown. She was once again alone in this empty Shrine.

If there was one thing about life that Marisa had learnt over time, it was that only your own person matters. At the end of the day, it is you that you have to live with. You’d better make the best decisions to get you to where you want to be. Leaving the village, being disowned, they would probably all look like horrible choices to the average human. But Kirisame Marisa had been aware for quite some time that she was not average in any sense of the word. More than that, she knew that she had the power to excel. To be better. Magic was the path she took.

Her family rioted. She would be a monster if she acted like it didn’t bother her how they behaved. Miss Kirisame sat at the family dinner table that day like someone had sculpted her, unmoving, as her father spat out abuses and threw the books she had carefully poured over in her direction. But even then, that was in the past now. Marisa was what mattered. She’d left that behind and studied hard and gotten so much better. Her family were but a figment now.

She had lived for years believing it was better to think for yourself, and yourself only. Living selfishly helped quell the mounting loneliness and alienation she felt daily. Nothing in life mattered, only Marisa and her magic books.

But then she made a friend at the Shrine. Someone equally alienated, equally lonely. What had struck her was how someone so powerful could be so utterly sad.

Maybe she had just spent too long in the mindset of a magician rather than the human being that she was by nature, but she had totally forgotten that gaining so much power would not bring her the happiness that she ultimately desired. She was disliked by humans right now for studying magic, but it would only get worse if she actually delved further into that realm. If Marisa were to become a youkai, she would have to die.

Reimu knew this. In fact, Marisa was sure that the only reason she even tolerated her presence and her pestering for battles was to keep an eye on her.

Youkai and human, they all had questions about the magician. She didn’t particularly belong in either circle. Not powerful enough to be a youkai, but too powerful to be considered a human. That, she surmised, was what actually kept her friendship with Reimu going.

Hakurei Reimu did not belong among humans. Totally incapable of reading a room, powerful enough even the people of the village feared her and with a cold exterior that not many could be bothered chipping past, she was not part of that world. But she could not be a part of the world that the youkai had. She was an exterminator. They might not fear her as such, but they knew what her purpose was.

They were one in the same. Though she loathed to admit it, she liked that. It was like they were the only people in the world who really understood the other.

It took a while to come to terms with, but Marisa realised one sunny day on the Hakurei Shrine porch that she was no longer only living with herself in mind. Someone else was working their way in there, and through that connection she realised she deeply cared about all of the lives of the people in Gensokyo.

The shrine maiden handed her a rice cracker, and they teased one another until the sun turned into the moon.

Yukari was right. Well, she was probably right in this instance. If Yukari had no idea that Reimu had gone missing, then there was no way that anything terrible could’ve happened to her! There would’ve been a shift in the border by now, and the gap youkai would have acted already. Yes, Marisa concluded. Reimu would arrive back at the Shrine any day now.

Having stood staring at the empty space the youkai was once floating in for far too long, Marisa decided to try and take her mind off of things. Reimu’s bedroom was tidy enough, but Marisa spent some time arranging things back to how the shrine maiden had left them. After the initial panic she had begun to feel bad about ransacking someone else’s space. She knew if someone had moved around her books from their designated piles, she would’ve blown a fuse.

With the drawers tidied and the objects sitting where they were supposed to be, Marisa sat at the kotatsu and stared at the empty teacups. She should wash them. It’d only take a few minutes. But… but perhaps it was better not to touch them. Maybe she should leave them alone. What if it was bad luck?

You have brought enough of that upon yourself already, the voice in her head hissed. You might as well clean some dirty dishes.

The teacups did only take a few minutes to wash and dry. Marisa was never this particular in her own house. Quite a few times she had left cups out to mould over simply because she had lost them in the sea of paper that was her study. Sitting in this empty shrine though, doing nothing, felt like it was going to kill her. She didn’t mind the cleaning and the tidying right now. She was honestly scared.

That voice in her head, it was still there. It wasn’t going away. Marisa couldn’t understand why. Curling up under the kotatsu, biting at her calloused fingers and cursing whatever was out there tormenting her, she fell into a restless and bitter sleep.

Chapter Text

Reisen did not want to go to that shrine!

It wasn’t like she had much of a choice in the matter, but there was no way she wanted to go there. It was scary enough that the shrine maiden was missing (she wasn’t privy to much more than that, but the purple gap youkai had visited her master and she had overheard as much) but what was scarier was that it sounded like the black-white had officially lost it.

It was almost inevitable that she was going to lose her mind, of course. Reisen had seen a few earth rabbits and a few other youkai around the forest taking bets on it a few years back. She was a bit loony. Even when Reisen had fought her she had seemed quite unstable. But to have completely lost it? It was quite hard for the moon rabbit to believe, but she had no reason to doubt what she was hearing.

The reason she was called to the Shrine was because, according to her master’s words, the magician had fallen ill and couldn’t or wouldn’t leave the Shrine. Reisen had been warned she was delirious from a fever prior to leaving the forest and not to listen too closely to any nonsense she spewed.

That was going to be difficult! The witch only ever spewed nonsense anyway!

Arriving at the Shrine, she gathered all of her strength and announced her entry. Inside, she was surprised to find the entire place was sitting quite orderly, with no dishes sitting around and no sign of a rampage. That was reassuring, at least to Reisen, that there hadn’t been some fever-induced meltdown.

She eventually found Kirisame in one of the spare rooms of the Shrine, asleep with a cold towel atop her head. Her futon was soaked with sweat, and Reisen gently shook her shoulder to awaken her.

“Gah!” Kirisame woke with a start, before collapsing into a coughing fit. “Oh, it’s you. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at Eintei?”

“I was asked to deliver you some medication,” the rabbit replied. “Yakumo visited and told my master she was concerned about your health. You’ve got quite a fever going on, I hope you’ve been drinking enough water.”

“I haven’t left the bed for 3 days,” the witch laboured to pull herself up into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “I can’t remember if Yukari was here or not, but someone’s been getting me water. I just know I don’t remember it. Man, I hate getting sick like this. I dunno how it even happened.”

Kirisame seemed to be avoiding touching anything in the Shrine, even before she got hit with a sudden bout of the flu. It was like she was preserving something, but the moon rabbit couldn’t quite put her finger on what that could be. If she hadn’t been leaving the Shrine, she had no idea how the magician caught such a virus. Perhaps she wasn’t keeping the place quite as warm as she should’ve been, or maybe she got the bug a few days before all of this happened and it merely began showing symptoms now.

“Well I have some pain medication for you and stuff to manage your temperature,” Reisen tried to give a reassuring smile, but was sure her anxiety was bleeding though. This situation was all kinds of wrong. “It should help you sleep and get back on your feet. Only thing to do with a fever is to ride it out, there’s not much in the way of a cure all for viruses like it.”

“Do you have anything for this voice?” The girl in bed grunted, peeling off the cold towel (now quite warm from the contact with her skin) and tossing it aside.

Reisen was confused.

“For your throat?” She frowned. “The pain medication will help with how rough it feels, but I’m sure if you aren’t feeling better soon, I can bring you a special throat soother- “

“The voice in my head,” Kirisame replied. “It won’t leave me alone. It talks to me all the time. Hey, what’s that look on your face? I’m not going crazy, okay? I know you think I am, but I’m not!”

“I can honestly certifiably say that I think you have been crazy for quite some time,” Reisen winces. “But… no, I don’t have anything of the sort. I’m not sure it’d even be possible. It might just be your own thoughts. You’re probably quite stressed because of the… predicament with the Shrine Maiden.”

Kirisame looked at her, blinked, and barked out a laugh which in turn resulted in a coughing fit. Creepy, was all Reisen could think. Really, really creepy.

“I don’t understand how Yukari could hear it then,” was what the magician muttered. She shrugged, pulled back the cover of the futon and gave Reisen a lopsided grin. In that moment, she almost looked like nothing was wrong. “Oh well! How about you help me get up and get a drink so I can swallow these pills?”

Reisen obliged, ran her a bath and grabbed her some fresh sleepwear from a bag she’d found in the spare room. The futon needed to be washed, but that was for the magician to do in her own time (Reisen was already doing more than her job description really necessitated) but the rabbit knew she could always take the futon from Hakurei’s room and sleep upon that. Failing that, a pillow and the kotatsu wouldn’t be an awful place to spend the night.

After laying out some towels in the bathroom, she arrived back in the main room of the Shrine, finding the witch sitting at the very kotatsu she was thinking of. Her sleeping robe was caked in sweat and clinging to her uncomfortably, and her signature hat was nowhere to be found. She really just looks like someone’s daughter, Reisen observed. It was easy to forget that someone like that had a family. Kirisame always seemed to be quite far removed from the human village which should have been her home. Reisen had no idea about any of that, she was far too busy working to be bothered with human’s idle gossiping. But to see someone who was always at the scene of an incident, playing and laughing and teasing… to see them look so normal was strange. Without her attire and her broom, she looked like every other girl in the village. An average, albeit sicky, girl waiting for news about the person she cared about.

Doesn’t really change the fact that she’s batty and is claiming to hear voices in her head, another thought cut through the others.

After noticing Reisen’s presence, Kirisame turned to her with a smile. She thanked her for the medication, said she appreciated the help and she felt able to manoeuvre around the Shrine on her own now. The pain had definitely decreased, she nodded very quickly. Amazing technology, she raved. Would Eirin be so kind as to show her around her lab? Maybe share a few recipes with her? Kirisame would appreciate it so very much-

“I don’t think you’re anywhere near as sick as you’re pretending to be!” Reisen scolded, crossing her arms with a huff. “The master wouldn’t let you within 10 feet of her lab. You’d probably just steal the recipe and peddle a worse version as your own. Just ‘cos I live in the forest, doesn’t mean I don’t know about your ‘grimoire’, Kirisame.”

Kirisame just laughed, before struggling to her feet and hobbling off into the bathroom with a “see you later”. In turn, the moon rabbit took her leave, steam bursting from her ears as she stomped off toward the freezing cold bamboo forest. Seriously! After all the good she’d just done for that witch, all she cared about was the recipe for the medication she brought! Well, she probably should’ve expected as much. That girl cared for very little else other than her pursuit of knowledge, it seemed.

Maybe that was why she was refusing to leave the Shrine, maybe she was pursuing the knowledge of where Hakurei Reimu had gone. It made sense. A little. Okay, it barely made sense. Why stay in the Shrine if you are desperate to investigate? Ugh, humans were such confusing creatures with such volatile emotions.

It was a cold day when her mother was buried. At least it was for her, she had no actual memory of the weather that day, but it was the middle of spring so it couldn’t have been that cold. Reimu sat, alone amongst the many that came to pay tribute to her mother that day. People of the village prayed, they wished her good luck in her life, they tossed in their hard-earned money to the Hakurei Shrine’s donation box, and they lamented the loss of her mother.

Reimu was cold. It was all she could think about in the moment. The village chief came up to her and held her hand. “Poor girl,” he shook his head, and then hurried on to pray at the shrine. She felt cold, even with those warm hands surrounding hers. Today was a cold spring day.

It was the most amount of people she had ever seen. Entire families were fluttering about the grounds. The children looked in awe at the Shrine, like they had never seen one before. And it was true. They had not. Hakurei Reimu had not seen any of these people before, not once. Well, she supposed that the village chief was an exception. He had visited her mother at least once in Reimu’s memory.

“We’re very special people,” her mother had told her as soon as she was old enough to begin her training. “We help the people of this world, and we keep the balance. I’m your mother and I love you very much, but I have a duty to this land that comes before my duty to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been saddled with this burden. I’m sorry that some nights I may not return home.”

She hadn’t been lying, and Reimu appreciated it looking back. It was scary and hurtful, and she’d cried when her mother initially told her all of that, but over time it just became the norm. Sometimes her mother would go missing for days on end, only to return home with bags of rice and fresh vegetables. They never went hungry. Reimu was never worried. She knew that one day, her mother would die. The miko didn’t know when it would happen, but her mother spoke about death like it was a second away from catching up to her.

Reimu spent her childhood with her mother training. She tried (unsuccessfully) to fly, she practiced rituals with her, learning to craft amulets with her and how to use ceremonial needles. She wasn’t an expert on it by any means, but she had the basics of most of the essential crafts down. Her mother told her she was glad about her progress, that she was well on her way to becoming the next head Shrine Maiden. She was proud to have such a wonderful successor.

Reimu had imagined that her mother would die in a battle, like she so often was in. A blaze of glory, a sad but beautiful last stand for the Gensokyo that she loved so much. But she found her dead in the futon next to hers, peaceful and content.

No-one, and Reimu would mean it when she said no-one, had really ever visited the Shrine prior to the death of her mother. If there were any visitors, they were never there when Reimu was awake. The most she ever saw of people was when her mother took her on shopping trips to the human village, and even then, most people didn’t speak to them. There was like there was some invisible barrier between others and the Hakurei family. Reimu didn’t know who her father was either, or if she even had one. She asked her mother about it, but there was only a wry smile in response and a request to drop the subject. So, upon seeing the lifeless body of the only person she really had any clue about speaking to, she could do nothing but burst into tears. She sat in bed with her mother, who felt cold to the touch, and cried for hours.

Eventually, she had ran to the village in just her nightclothes and banged on the village chief’s door. Then the funeral arrangements had been made.

Reimu had never been to a funeral before, let alone perform one. Her mother used to do the rites and rituals, and so she would be expected to do the same as the successor. It was hopeless, truly. She was going to make an embarrassment out of her family name and be the worst Hakurei Shrine Maiden that Gensokyo had ever seen. Her mother left her practically nothing, which was expected. She was a selfless maiden devoted to the Shrine and it’s God. In the small box she had left for her, inside was a gohei, a red ribbon and a collection of books. Skimming through, they were all old diaries and instructions of rituals written by past shrine maidens. They were older than her mother was. And so numerous that Reimu felt ill. She was but one of many shrine maidens, her and her mother. The topmost book of the pile was written by her mother, which was evident from the handwriting Reimu was familiar with. A certain page was bookmarked. It was detailed instructions on funeral rites and rituals.

The funeral was excruciating. Reimu had practiced for hours. She’d done her best, and she hoped that her God would approve and that her mother would find peace in the afterlife for her work. But now, she was just sitting there, having people flit up to her and flit away. People she knew had had 0 interest in her and her wellbeing were now so sorry for her loss, for her burden.

It was obvious pretence. These people from the village wouldn’t let Reimu play amongst their children, but suddenly felt sorry for her now. She didn’t want to resent them, but she found that she did, at least a little bit. Her mother had worked so hard for them, for their sake, but she found herself rejected by them so widely. She’d brought Reimu into the world, and she was similarly rejected by them. She didn’t know why. It just didn’t make sense.

Such feelings are not becoming of a young Shrine Maiden, an ancient voice boomed in her head. It echoed around her mind, and she felt the presence of a higher being. Her God. Human beings fear that which they do not understand. They do not understand the children of the Hakurei Shrine. You are but a fledgling now. In time, you will begin to understand why. For now, withhold your judgements.

Reimu screamed. Everyone turned and looked at the little miko, who had once been kneeling neatly on a red plush pillow but was now screaming bloody murder as she curled into herself. The scream died out and Reimu was left, shivering, alone on the porch of the Shrine as the people of the village began to file their way out slowly.

“Nutcases,” one villager said. “Every one of them. Whole family line is aloof and strange like those two.”

“Poor girl,” one said. “It must be so hard; she must’ve just had a breakdown.”

“It’s best not to come to this place,” a father grunted, covering his child’s ears. “You never come here without your mother and father.”

“She’s not even 10,” a granny sighed. “What an awful weight.”

That was the first, and the last, time Reimu would ever hear her God’s voice.

Yes, it was true. It was a cold day the day that her mother died. That was why the shaking wouldn’t stop. That was why her nose was running.

When Marisa finally felt better, she decided that it was probably time to venture out of the Shrine’s grounds. For starters, she needed extra clothing now that winter had officially set in, and secondly, she was beginning to go stir crazy. She was grateful that that voice inside of her head had stopped scaring the life out of her, at least for now, so she felt pretty on top of the world! Truly, the little things in life are the ones which grant the most happiness.

She got dressed for the first time since she’d been sick, pulling on her well-worn boots with some effort and tying them tightly before opening the Shrine doors and immediately being blasted with frosty winter air. Marisa hadn’t expected it to be quite so icy yet, but she did her best to brave it as she flew to the Forest of Magic.

As usual, a band of fairies were playing as she ventured deeper to her cottage, and they waved to her and yelled for her to join. They liked to buy little potions and enchantments from her magic shop for pranks and games, but now wasn’t the time. When she finally reached her cottage, though, someone she hadn’t been expected was already standing there.

Alice was wrapped up warmly in a thick, pale blue winter coat and had abandoned her frilly headband for a pair of earmuffs (some sort of new fad that had fallen into Gensokyo from the outside world. Marisa didn’t see the appeal since it hindered her hearing). Arms crossed, eyebrow raised, she tapped out an irritated rhythm on her arm as she watched her fellow magician land.

“Can’t say I expected to see you here,” Marisa grinned. “I’ll get you your books back eventually, I just have a couple more chapters of stuff I wanna try before I hand them back over. You don’t have to stake out my house to retrieve ‘em.”

“You left your window open,” doll maker replied. “I’ve been keeping an eye on it. We’re supposed to get snow. Isn’t it common curtesy to invite a guest into your home?”

Marisa blinked. Instead of arguing with her any further, she merely unlocked the door and watched Alice flutter in ahead of her, as though she owned the place.

Inside, Marisa was grateful to see that there was no damage to any of her collection, just a lot of leaves floating about. It would only take a minute or two to clean, but she was quite tired of keeping places spotless, and so it could wait. Ignoring Alice, who was just standing still next to the closed door, she began to sift through some of her belongings like her notes and grimoires. Eventually, though, it seemed the magician had enough of the silence.

“Aren’t you going to talk about it?” Alice pressed. “I know what’s been going on, in fact I’d hedge a bet there isn’t a soul in Gensokyo that isn’t aware. I thought- ugh, and perhaps it was foolish of me to assume you would ever let yourself be vulnerable for even a nanosecond- I thought that you would’ve wanted to discuss all of this.”

Marisa turned to look at her. Alice looked quite young, at least right now. Usually, she had an imposing air about her, the kind of presence that gave you an inkling of the power she could wield. But right now, she looked like a girl in a winter jacket all wrapped up warm. She looked cold.

The witch sighed and pinched her nose. How was she supposed to talk about this? Alice was right, she wasn’t good at emotions or dealing with how she felt, and that was saying something coming from Alice of all people. For her to have been here meant she was worried.

“Reimu’s missing,” is what she decided on saying. Alice looked dissatisfied, but also like it was a confirmation of the chitter chatter she had heard. “Are you happy now?”

“Not at all!” Alice stomped over and gripped Marisa’s shoulders. “Do you have any idea the amount of people in this world who care about you, you useless human? Who care about Reimu? You disappeared from the Forest for a week directly after she went walkies, right after you asked me about her, and you thought I wouldn’t worry about that? I’m your friend! I expected you to trust me enough to at least let me know you were alive! But again, I expected too much from such a stupid, idiotic human. I thought that you had died! Where have you been?”

Alice looked a second away from bursting into tears, and she abruptly removed her hands to cover her face. It was quiet, and then it wasn’t.

“You can hold all of this in forever,” the doll-maker sniffed, refusing to uncover her face. “I don’t care. But never, ever make the mistake of thinking that you are the only one affected by all of this. Hakurei Reimu is my friend too, and for all I know she’s dead and my other friend went missing directly after. I thought you were both dead. You don’t even care, you think I don’t care either, don’t you? Because I’m a youkai, and I like my own company more than other people. But in so many years of life I’ve barely known anyone like either of you, anyone who would spare me the time of day. So forgive me for my outburst, but all I want to know is what is going on.”

“Don’t make assumptions about how I feel,” Marisa snapped, and then immediately felt bad. “I- look. I don’t know much more than what I’ve already said. Reimu is missing. I was at the Shrine the entire time I was gone. Yukari is looking into it, or something, but I know nothing. And I’ve been sick with the flu too. I didn’t think to tell you where I was going.”

“Because you don’t think I care,” Alice gave a dry laugh.

“Because I didn’t think I would’ve been gone so long,” Marisa retorted. “But I’m fine. A little shaken up maybe, and I’m recovering from a bout of flu, but I’m completely unharmed.”

“Do you mean that?” The puppeteer’s hands dropped quickly to her sides. “There’s nothing wrong with you, right? You would tell me if there was, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” Marisa lied. She hoped it was convincing, usually her lies were pretty transparent. “I mean it.”

Alice relaxed a little bit after that, eventually roaming from where she had been standing into the kitchen and returning with a pot of tea. They silently sipped their respective cups, each reading different grimoires. Marisa got up briefly to light the fire since the cold was beginning to settle a little too much, but otherwise neither of them moved. Being at home was nice, sitting across from Alice was nice. It was enough to distract from the situation at hand, anyway.

They couldn’t have been sitting together for more than an hour before Alice announced she was heading back home. Marisa nodded, and the youkai left the house without another word.

Marisa shivered. She put some more wood on the fire. Today was too chilly.

At some point or another, the magician must’ve dozed off at her table, because when her door made a loud bang, it shocked her into consciousness. Not even taking the time to realise who it was that had abruptly entered her home, she snapped her fingers to trigger the magical traps she had installed for this very occasion. But they didn’t go off. The sleep in her eyes blinked away and she was looking at a very familiar shikigami.

Yakumo Ran was in her entryway. She looked very out of place in such an environment, and she seemed to be uncomfortable being in the house. Her nose was turned up in obvious disgust at the state of the place, but she seemed to forget about that because she suddenly had remembered that Marisa tried to magically detain her.

“Are you serious?!” She barked. “If those had went off, I’d have had to do some serious harm to your property in order to release myself. You would be liable for any of the damages to it, and I’m quite aware of the amount of stolen goods in your possession.”

“Well you did just barge into my house without any permission!” Marisa spat back, pointing accusingly at her. “What kinda manners did that old hag teach you? It’s totally reasonable to wanna protect my house. What the hell are you here for anyway?”

Ran shifted awkwardly, and all of a sudden, the air was very different. Marisa had felt cold all day, but now it was overwhelming. The fire went out some time ago.

“I’ve been instructed to retrieve you by my lady,” came the response after a few seconds of silence. “She has some urgent news that she needs to impart, and she wanted it to be in person, rather than via a letter or for you to have to find out… some other way.”

Marisa couldn’t speak back. She just nodded. It was like all of her questions were boiling over and bubbling to the surface, but they were all too relevant to pick just one. Instead of asking any of them, Marisa watched as one of Yukari’s many gaps opened up and followed Ran into it.

Reimu had been to the Yakumo house quite frequently- well, at least more than Marisa had been. She could probably count the number of times she’d visited on one hand. So when they arrived at the grand mansion somewhere between no-where and Gensokyo, she was a little taken aback. It was easy to forget something if you hadn’t seen it for a while.

It was a traditional Japanese mansion, which would not be surprising given it was Yukari. Though it was intriguing, given that it seemed to be entirely devoid of material from the outside world. Marisa would’ve thought Yukari would be a fiend for that kind of thing and was scoping the place out for any interesting tech she could find to take home with her. No such thing jumped out. Just traditional decorations, probably hundreds of thousands of years old. As they walked through the mansion, there were many tapestries of battles. Probably of former shrine maidens, or perhaps they were fought by the Hakurei God. Marisa didn’t know. She never pegged Yukari as someone who was nostalgic.

They approached an open door to what looked to be a tearoom, with Yukari sitting alone at the table inside. Ran gestured to enter, and when Marisa did, the door was shut behind her. Ominous. Very reassuring. Youkai have no idea about how to make places inviting!

The magician sat at the table across from Yukari, who poured her a cup of tea silently. Odd. Yukari didn’t ever pour her own drinks.

“So… are you going to tell me why it is that your shikigami burst into my house and brought me over here?” She frowned but took a sip of the tea anyway. Jasmine. “I’m getting real tired of everyone just doing that to me. First it was the moon rabbit, now it’s your fox. Why do you have so many animals in and about my business?”

Yukari laughed, and it was surprisingly genuine. She looked a little sad, and that unnerved Marisa. She didn’t like it when Yukari was sincere. It was not a side of her she was often privy to. Reimu spoke about how she would get very serious in private conversations with her, almost a completely different individual from how she presented herself in public.

“You’re quite aware of the fact that the Eintei rabbit was visiting on my request because of my concern for your health,” Yukari smiled. “As for Ran… you simply did not answer the door when she knocked. Not to worry, your door will be reaffixed by the time you are returned to your house.”

Marisa had been so bewildered by the situation she hadn’t even noticed that the door had been broken down. Great. Well. At least someone else was fixing it.

“Though there is a serious reason I asked for your presence today,” and here it was. “I’m not here to drink tea and joke around like we’re close friends. Unfortunately, we aren’t very close. That has been an error on my end, and I would like to profusely apologise. We are going to have to become much more like a team in the days going forward. This is where I have to be honest with you: I have been made aware of where the Hakurei Shrine Maiden is.”

The room was ice cold, the tea was steaming in her hands, but it was doing nothing to warm up the surroundings.

Marisa sat up straight, eyes wide, and began to whip her head around. Was she somewhere in the mansion?

“That’s great!” She laughed, but it was nervous. It felt like a choke more than anything. “Awesome, so. Can I see her? Is she here somewhere? Or is she resting or something?”

“No,” Yukari snapped. She seemed to regret this, and she began to speak in a softer tone. “No, she is not here in the mansion, and no, she is not resting. You cannot see her. I’m sorry to say this Kirisame, but I have to tell the truth. I know where she is, and I have seen her body, but that is it. She is not alive. Hakurei Reimu is dead.”

…

“You’re lying to me.”

Marisa stood up, tea hanging precariously from a few fingers.

“I have no reason to lie to you,” Yukari replied. “What would I have to gain from such a tall tale? Please, I know you’re only human but try to think with your head for a minute instead of your heart.”

“I don’t believe you!” That was it, she couldn’t take it anymore. Marisa screamed and threw the tea directly at Yukari who swiftly dodged it as though this was exactly the kind of reaction she’d expected. That pissed her off even more. How dare she sit there, lie so blatantly to her face, and then have the gall to dodge what she rightfully deserved. “I’m not listening to this. You’re clearly just doing this to mess with us! All of us! Gensokyo! Nah, no way. No way, no way. Get out your spell cards. Hurry up! Fight me! Fight me and bring her back!”

“I am not going to fight you,” it was so infuriating, how calm the gap youkai was. She spoke in the scolding tone of a mother who understood but didn’t approve. “I think you ought to sit down before you do yourself an injury, magician.”

Behave.

That fucking voice again! It hurt; it was so loud that it hurt. Ancient, rumbling, and full of authority. Something living, alive and real and inside of her skull. Her head pounded, and she gripped at it in pain.

“You should listen to it,” Yukari spoke up above the choir of pain blasting through her head. “It’s for your own good. If you listen, you’ll eventually understand.

Marisa didn’t want to understand. What the fuck was there to understand? God- had this been any other situation or about any other person in the world, she would’ve been so curious. Desperate, even, to understand. But now, there was a creature in her head and her best friend was dead and no-one was making sense and there was no way, not really, that Reimu was dead because how could she be, the barrier was intact and the Shrine was still fine and she hadn’t even taken anything with her and the last thing Marisa had ever heard her say was goodbye and that just wasn’t right was it, there was no way that her last words to her would’ve been goodbye and there was so much that Marisa hadn’t had a chance to say, lots of things, and there was still so much time to do it, right, they were so young but if Yukari wasn’t talking nonsense then no, there was no time, it had already ran out- and oh god the pain, it bloomed again afresh like a punishment for the overflowing thoughts in her head and once again it echoed within her brain like an otherworldly instrument.

Sit down and listen.

She sat down.

“You should know that Kirisame Marisa was not born for this,” the youkai spoke into thin air, into nothing. “Be careful with her, however strong she may be, she was born an ordinary human being in the village and was not chosen for this lifestyle from birth. You should also know that there are people in high places who are dissatisfied with you, and that would be to put it lightly. I am dissatisfied with you. I believe I have placed my trust in a hack. You have a chance to redeem yourself, and it will be your last. Another incident like this, and I will have to do something about you. You live by the grace of the people here, and you could die by it.”

What the hell was that hag yapping about? She seemed angry, but it was not directed at Marisa, but rather like she was angry at a person standing just behind her. The chill in the air became more like a thick frost. Marisa struggled to regulate her senses.

“I know this is a difficult thing to understand and to come to terms with,” Yukari smiled kindly, like the whole incident of a few seconds ago and her anger were merely a figment. “I have been in similar situations before, and it’s never easy to lose someone you care about. But I can assure you, Hakurei Reimu has passed. There’s something unusual afoot, although I can’t quite understand how it’s come to pass, and I promise you that I am doing everything I can to investigate. I appreciate it’s hard to believe me. But one thing you have to understand about me, is that I have served and watched over the Hakurei family since Gensokyo’s inception. This was not my doing. Believe me or not, it’s up to you. As of right now, you need to at least pretend to trust me, because I have a duty to you since you are hearing this voice in your head.”

“I don’t think I’m going to like what you have to say about it,” Marisa whispered. The pain was nearly gone, but the sting of her friend’s death wasn’t about to leave anytime soon. “In fact, I think I know what it is you’re going to tell me. But go ahead. Just rip the bandage off. I can’t stand all this pomp and circumstance. I want to go home.”

“You know of the Hakurei Shrine’s God,” Yukari sighed. “I’m sure there isn’t a child in the village who isn’t aware. The God is an angry one, but not without reason. For centuries, its name has been a mystery and thus, it has been unable to be worshipped properly. I’m not sure how it happened- perhaps its name was lost to time, or maybe when Gensokyo was conceived, its name fell through a gap and disappeared. However it happened doesn’t matter. Reimu was but one of many young Shrine Maidens who had tried and failed to appease the God of the Shrine, but to no avail. It isn’t easy to gather up faith for a God whose name you don’t know. It doesn’t help that said God has been quiet for centuries either. It could easily tell these girls, and myself, its name, but you’ve met enough gods to know that they are fickle and prideful things. It would damage its pride. So it sat, for centuries, power waning, giving the silent treatment to a family line that existed for nothing more than to serve it.

“You’ve heard that Reimu had tried to speak to it before, yes? It never worked. She looked to it for guidance, like her mother before her, and received bitter silence in return. Though she never told me, I knew it had once spoken to her. I’m sure that it has spoken to every shrine maiden at least once. Always on the same day. The day their predecessor was buried. Which is interesting to me, because the Hakurei God spoke to you a week after Reimu went missing, apparently as soon as you entered the Shrine’s grounds. Reimu was never buried. I did not find her until this morning, whereupon I had to bury her body immediately. Not only that, but you are also not a part of the Hakurei lineage, and you were certainly not who I would’ve chosen as the new shrine maiden. What’s more, is that it has continued to speak to you. Why?”

She didn’t know. How the fuck would Marisa know why a God of all things would want to sit around in her skull? Why, why did any of this have to happen? All she wanted was for Reimu to burst through the tearoom doors, smack her around the back of the head for believing such nonsense, and drag her back off to Gensokyo to drink some cold sake. It wasn’t going to happen. Was Yukari even talking to her, or was she expecting the God to reply?

“Silence as usual,” Yukari sneered. “I think I preferred it when you were quiet.”

Another breakneck change in tone occurred, with Yukari’s expression once again softening upon meeting Marisa’s eyes.

“There will be a proper funeral,” she said, looking rather forlorn. “You are obviously invited to it. Please, attend it. I will do my best to give you the appropriate time to grieve before you have to start taking up the jobs Reimu did- and I apologise that you are the one placed in the position. Had she passed at the time she was expected to, this wouldn’t have been a problem. And I’m sorry for the series of events that are about to unfold.”

Before she could ask she had meant by that, by any of that, Marisa blinked and found that she was sitting on top of her bed in her cottage.

Snow fell outside. It was cold. The window Alice had warned her about was still laying open, but she didn’t care. She wanted to catch a cold. Perhaps catch hypothermia and die. Who cared anymore? It was cold today, and it would be cold forever.

Chapter Text

She was beautiful. Yes, that was the word. It had taken her quite some time to land upon which word to use exactly, but it was beautiful. The summer sun had brought out a constellation of freckles on her cheeks and they were rosy with a hint of sunburn. Truly, she was picturesque.

No point in telling her that though. It wasn’t going to bring her the happiness she desired, not really. It was unlikely to work out even if they felt the same way.

There was no harm in looking at her, though. So she did. She drank in the way she grinned at the little fairies who followed her around looking for play, the way she teased, how she would wink knowingly in her direction before playing a prank on one of them. It was scorching, this heat, but somehow, she always looked so cool.

The simple act of a con-artist, she thought.

Perhaps it was, or maybe she really was unbothered by this heat.

Marisa was beautiful, that would be today’s conclusion. It had taken so long to notice, but now Reimu could sleep at night with an understanding.

“If you guys are gonna start a danmaku battle, get the hell out of here!” She screamed, grabbing her gohei and standing up to chase the fairies out. Cirno had just tried to conjure up a spell card after one of Marisa’s little improvised pranks had gone off (some sort of thing that shocks you) and the magician had begun to rummage around in her apron for her own. “No battles on the Shrine grounds! Take it back to the Forest before I give you a beating!”

The fairies got the hint as they watched Reimu run towards them, and they all darted off in different directions, leaving Marisa alone and cackling. Unimpressed, Reimu whacked her around the head with her gohei.

“Ouch,” the magician was still laughing. “Yikes, are you gonna run me outta here with your gohei too, Miss Hakurei? I’m terrified, I truly am.”

“I’ve already tried that!” Reimu huffed, crossing her arms and trying to ignore the growing flush spreading across her cheeks as she looked at her friend’s face. “Several times. For several years. I can’t get rid of you at all, you’re like some kind of vermin. Yeah, that tracks, you eat all my cakes and drink all my tea. I have a serious infestation here.”

“If you wanted me exterminated you would’ve already done it,” Marisa flicked at her nose, Reimu playfully swiping her hand away. “I think you must like me at least a little.”

“I think someone is giving themselves way too much credit,” Reimu grinned. “Well? Are you going to come in? I bought one of those fans from Kourin a couple days ago, it’d be better than standing here in this heat.”

Alice was at her door before she could even wake up properly, and she said nary a word as she pulled Marisa into a tight hug. The witch had no idea how Alice would’ve found out the news, but she could only imagine there had been an announcement of some kind somewhere. Alice sobbed into her shoulder, but it was at that point that Marisa realised she hadn’t shed a single tear yet, and suddenly felt a rush of guilt as to why that was. She loved Reimu, it was wrong for her to be so emotionless- surely there would be some sort of reaction? Anything? She felt like a monster as the youkai magician wept so openly.

“Are you going?” Alice’s voice was hoarse from her weeping session earlier, but she cradled a hot cup of tea in her hands in the hope of soothing it. Marisa had recounted the events of the night prior to her as it had brewed. “To the funeral, I mean. It would be nice if you did.”

“Not sure that nice is the right word,” Marisa smirked. “With what that old lady was telling me, it’s more like it’s my duty. She just made it seem like a choice.”

“At the end of the day it’s your life,” Alice huffed, taking a sip of her tea. “Although I agree with her, I do think you should go. It should just be on your own terms. This whole thing sounds rather bizarre even for Gensokyo standards. A silent God talking to an outsider of the Hakurei family and Reimu going missing? None of it makes sense to me. You don’t think…”

Alice trailed off, frowning, and looked teary-eyed again.

“You don’t think the God did this?” Alice worried her bottom lip, tracing a shape around the cup in her hand.

“I doubt it,” Marisa groaned. “I haven’t been thinking about it too much out of a need to try and keep myself from losing my mind. It seems mad, but I don’t think it hated Reimu enough to… to do anything bad to her. Yukari gave it one hell of a verbal beating yesterday, and I haven’t heard jack since. Maybe its ego was wounded. You know what Gods are like.”

Alice nodded and leant back in her seat. She had a point, Marisa should probably be brainstorming and investigating more than she was right now, but the thought of doing so right now felt so wrong. She knew what she had to do. It was just difficult. Plus, all this crazy talk about duties she had to fulfil as Reimu’s successor was weighing on her. If Yukari wasn’t joking around, then that would mean that there would be a whole lot of stuff she’d have to learn and then a whole lot of things she’d have to give up. All of this magic she had spent so long cultivating and building an affinity with would have to be set aside most likely, and her efforts would be for naught. It was like Reimu’s death had also signalled an end to Marisa’s casual every day that she had grown so accustomed to. It was expected that things would be different with her gone, but she had hardly expected this big of a change.

She didn’t have to die. Yukari even said as much, it wasn’t her time. So why? Why did it have to happen? How could life be so cruel? To rip a girl from this world far beyond her allotted expiry date, who would do such a thing?

Perhaps she did it, a small voice in her head became clear.

“I have to say though, I am quite impressed,” Alice sniffled. “You’re taking this far better than I had imagined. Maybe I’m just doing a lot worse than I thought. I definitely was expecting you to have a big danmaku battle with Yukari and come back all battered and bruised and pissed. I know why you didn’t but this whole thing is so… unnatural. This was not supposed to happen to her. I know it.”

“I did try to fight her,” the magician barked out a cough of laughter. “Uh, it just didn’t work out like that is all. I’m sure all she wanted was to beat me up for how stupid I was being… but someone had other ideas.”

With that, she pointed to her head and sighed. She didn’t really like the idea of a God speaking to her, much less a God that she hadn’t even been trained to communicate with. Reimu was born a Hakurei, and that entire family line (whether adopted into or born within) were destined to be shine maidens. They carried the power of the Hakurei and all that came with it. Marisa wasn’t one, not by a long shot, and it was clear from the way her skull pounded from every word that bellowed through her head. By comparison, shirking the Kirisame legacy looked quite meagre.

“…I don’t know how to react,” she figured she might as well just come out and say it, because Alice was here, and she was about the only person left in the world she could really rely on. She needed to tell someone. “I know what I’m supposed to do, I know that I am sad. I should have cried and thrashed around and lost my mind by now, I know it. I want to, but I can’t. She just can’t be gone. I just refuse to believe it. I didn’t even- I…”

Alice watched, silent and unjudging, as Marisa finally did shed her first tears of the entire affair. She laughed, full of wry and a deep, all-consuming guilt that Alice could personally relate to. She placed her teacup on the table and gently took the human’s hands into her own, and quietly listened as she wept.

“I don’t understand how I’m supposed to carry all of this on until Yukari can sort it out,” her hands were cold and clammy, like she was anxious to even do this. “Reimu just can’t be dead, I still just don’t believe it. How could she die and not tell me? Not let me know, at least somehow. I’d have let her know! It’s so inconsiderate, honestly. No letters, no ghost to haunt around, she had no unfinished business, so was I even all that important? If it’d been me that died, I’d have haunted her.”

“She’d be your unfinished business?” Alice smirked. “You know, for someone so very emotionally immature and quite stunted, you’re a bit of a romantic, Kirisame.”

“Well clearly Hakurei Reimu isn’t!” Marisa choked back, pulling her hands away to rub at her eyes furiously. “If I’m stunted, she’s totally repressed. It’s useless to even talk about those feelings, clearly the way I feel was different to how she felt about me. ‘Cos right now I’m sobbing my eyes out to a youkai and her sorry ass is probably living it up in her next life, or in Heaven. Nobody’s haunting me.”

“I think she is,” the puppeteer stood up from her seat and placed a hand on her shoulder. “She’s haunting you right now. Honestly, I think you’ve stepped up a little from your average ghost hauntings anyway. There’s a dissatisfied God that seems to like hitching a ride in your head.”

There was silence for a bit, and Alice realised that this was because Marisa was doing her level best to stop crying. Come to think of it, she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her cry before. During their conversation, she’d been too preoccupied with trying to calm her down that she didn’t even think about it.

“She must’ve known she was going to die,” the magician spoke up. Her voice threw Alice back to Makai. To Mima and Shinki and being so lost, with Marisa as her only friend. She’d been small and weak, and Alice herself relatively new to proper magician training. Honestly, Alice never thought she’d see that side of her ever again. Maybe something a little vulnerable, but nothing so laid bare. “She said goodbye to me. She ran inside and didn’t even look back. Well, maybe she didn’t know she was going to die, I dunno. It doesn’t seem like her to know she was going to die and not even glance behind her. I told her, when we were kids, that I wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Bullshit at the time, but I truly believed I would be strong enough to protect her one day.”

Her voice trailed off as she was sucked into a memory that Alice obviously wasn’t privy to, and her face was totally unreadable.

“But she died. It’s all my fault, if I had read the right books maybe or learnt the correct spells maybe I could’ve saved her from whatever befell her. If I hadn’t left that night, if only I had stayed at the Shrine a little longer and kept bugging her like I always do, maybe she’d be here right now. But instead, I went home, and I messed around with potions that lead to nothing and revised spells I’ve already perfected, and she was gone in that time.”

“It is not your fault,” Alice gripped at her shoulders. “You didn’t know. None of us did.”

“I should’ve known better,” the magician’s face stared coldly ahead. “If I was more powerful… perhaps no-one would’ve messed with her.”

“Enough!” Alice shook her. “Get a grip! You’re talking nonsense right now; you know that you don’t mean what you’re saying. You’re grief-stricken. If you had truly gotten as powerful as you wished, you would’ve been dust by now.”

“Better than this,” Marisa said, and Alice promptly slapped her.

“I can’t believe you would even say something like that. Are you insane? You know what people are saying about you, right? It’s not out of a desire for gossip, they are deeply concerned. You’ve been so out of sorts and sometimes I can almost see a glimpse of the normal Marisa somewhere, but you vanish her away like you did just now. If you can’t think straight for yourself, imagine Reimu heard you speaking like this. I guarantee you’d face worse from her in response.”

“I just don’t even think she’s dead!” Marisa bellowed. Her eyes were wild and frantic, and she had shoved her chair far away from the table and knocked over a tower of books stacked behind her. “I don’t believe it at all. It doesn’t make sense for her to be dead.”

“That’s grief speaking Marisa,” Alice was starting to feel like her head was about to explode if she had to carry on this conversation topic for much longer. “You’ve grieved before. I remember how you were with Mima.”

Marisa huffed, and crossed her arms, muttering something under her breath.

“I understand you, I do, but you have to realise that you’re only going to continue to bring yourself pain should you continue down that kind of path. You’ve got to accept it. Be angry, be hurt and be sad, but don’t live in denial forever. You’ll just end up miserable.”

With one last glance at the human magician, who was biting at her lip and tapping her foot something furious, Alice gave a sigh and left.

Reimu noticed that, frequently, these books left behind to her ended abruptly and suddenly. Though a lot of the contents of them were menial stories of young Shrine Maidens who were usually just milling about the Shrine when they were not hunting youkai or performing a ritual, she still enjoyed reading them regardless. It was a reminder that she wasn’t alone. Many of the girls in there had premonitions that they would die soon, and so their writings reflected that to comfort their successor or to otherwise prepare them for the future ahead of them. But there were some that just stopped.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

XX, XX, XXXX

Hello my friend,

I woke up today to find that there was several bags of rice and flour inside of the donation box. I’m not too sure who would have left those, but I am incredibly thankful all the same. I boiled a little rice for breakfast and moved the rest to the cellar. Today, I’ve included a few instructions on talisman creation that I hope will be helpful. My former teacher’s way never really felt natural to me, so I am including my own here in case you find it to be of more use. Spring is here, and I am glad to be rid of the harsh winter. I like to see the cherry blossoms bloom, but of course flower-viewing is yet to come. I prayed for a beautiful season, and I am hopeful it will be heard.

Best wishes,

Hakurei R.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

XX, XX, XXXX

Hello dear student,

The blossoms are as wonderful as expected, I’ve pressed a few onto the pages to try and preserve that beauty for a little bit longer. I’m sure that many years down the line their colour and beauty will have faded, but that is also a precious thing. There seems to be some fairies who try to cross the Tori gate, but they keep getting zapped back. It’s a little fun to watch, although it does make me sad for them. They just want to play, but they are too rough to play with humans. I’m not to fraternise with them, and neither are you. Humans and youkai are to stay worlds apart, and we are the only people who can cross that boundary, and that must only be done to correct it. This turned rather serious. Rest assured, the weather has been lovely, and I have been in high spirits.

Best wishes,

Hakurei R.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

XX, XX, XXXX

Student,

I had a meeting with my father today. It went about as well as I had expected it to. If you are a girl who was unlucky enough- no. I hope I scored that out well. If you are one of the few of the Hakurei maidens to be adopted into the Hakurei family, you may watch your biological parents turn their back on you. They don’t understand. I don’t understand. Sometimes I feel like I was not born for this. It is difficult to feel worthy to carry on the name when I feel so alienated from my predecessor, but reading her diaries certainly helped me. I hope they help you. Us maidens are our own family, and whoever it is that is reading this- be it my own successor or one much farther down the line- I love you. We are kin, regardless of what blood may say.

Best wishes,

Hakurei R.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

She was a child, so she didn’t understand. But as a teenager, she did. Written in various entries of those diaries, across generations, were girls who died by their own hand. Some were different. One Hakurei N. obviously ran away from the Shrine with a boy from the village who had taken a fancy to her, and subsequently disappeared. There were a few who obviously just decided to give up being a miko and live in the village with their husbands. But for many of the girls whose pages ended abruptly, it was clear that their mental state had degraded over time. Reimu was fortunate to have grown up with her mother in her life, it had helped stave off the loneliness that so obviously clung to these poor girls who poured their hearts onto the pages.

What did Gensokyo do when a Hakurei shrine maiden took her life into her own hands? What did the God think? Was that why it was angry at them all? Why it never spoke?

It was useless to ask questions no one would be bothered to answer. It was obvious the Hakurei R. who came years before her had done the unspeakable. Her writing made Reimu feel like she wasn’t alone though. Hakurei R. was right, the Hakurei girls were all family, and these books were proof of that bond. Glimpses of their intense love and dedication not just to the Shrine, but to each and every one of the girls who worshipped there.

So, even before her teenage revelation of why those girls’ entries stopped short, she wrote.

The news had broken across Gensokyo, and when Marisa woke up, she had a letter addressed to her on her doormat and a deep red sky overhead. Honestly, considering the news that had been presented, she had expected far worse. Maybe another repeat of the lunatic moon, or something a lot more dangerous to civilians. A Scarlet Mist Incident sequel wasn’t so bad, all things considered. Figuring she’d check the letter later; she stuffed it into her apron and hopped onto her broom towards the mansion.

Meiling was waiting as she arrived on her broom, and while Marisa expected some sort of fight, she just held up her hands. Sanae had already been apparently, and Meiling was too tired out to want to continue fighting. Huh.

The inside of the mansion was a maze, as was usual, filled with paintings and antique western décor that Marisa hadn’t ever really focused on that closely. Mostly, she was concerned with the library every time she visited. Either that… or the younger sister would drag her to the basement to play.

Finally reaching the end of the corridor, she watched as a rainbow of bullets flew across the room between Remilia and Sanae. She’d arrived too late to join in, it seemed. Remilia shouted out a spell card name, but Sanae swiftly knocked it out of her hands and it seemed like that was the end of it.

“That’s enough of that Miss Scarlet,” the shrine maiden chastised. “I’ve heard you’ve done this thing before, and it turned out the same way! You’d better change it back.”

The vampire gently landed on her ornate chair, snapped her fingers, and the mist was gone. Sanae landed right in front of Marisa but hadn’t even noticed her come in. Remilia had, though, and immediately she perked up. In a flash, she was before the magician, and Sanae had to snap her neck around to figure out what it was she was doing.

“I thought you’d come!” Remilia smiled, and Marisa suddenly felt like the whole ‘incident’ was just her way of getting out some sort of Kirisame-signal. “I’ve been trying to think of a way to get to speak with you, but I couldn’t think of anything.”

“A letter?” Marisa deadpanned. “To my house? Would be a lot less work than summoning a big red mist to cover the sky.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Remilia sighed. “You don’t have an address. You live in a forest.”

Before she could point out that the vampire lived on top of a lake and still received letters, Sanae piped up.

“Did you get my letter?” There was a sympathetic look on her face that made something in Marisa shrivel up a bit. “It’s okay if you haven’t read it yet, but please have a look when you can. I’m really sorry about… um…”

“I’m not sorry,” Remilia huffed. “I’m devastated! How are we supposed to have our wonderful flower viewings and play around without our Shrine Maiden?”

“Your priorities seem quite skewed,” Marisa scratched at her cheek. “I feel like flower viewings are the furthest thing from my mind right now.”

“The mistress just struggles with conveying emotions as deep as those that she’s currently experiencing,” her footsteps never gave her away, but she was always somewhere. Sakuya appeared next to Remilia as though she’d been there the entire time. “She cried for hours last night, and it’s taken a while to console her. Think of the mist from earlier as a way to reminisce.”

Remilia flushed red, annoyed and embarrassed, but said nothing to dispute the human’s words. Sakuya smiled and held out her hand, laying on the palm of which was yet another letter.

“We all have things we would like to say in written formats,” she laughed airily, with no real heart or feeling behind it. Marisa took the letter and placed it in her apron alongside what now was obviously Sanae’s letter. “The contents are not that urgent, but it would be appreciated if you got back to us as soon as you are able.”

“I see,” Marisa felt a bit dizzy. “I’ll read them when I get home. Speaking of, I should probably head back…”

“Aren’t you going to stay for tea?” Remilia frowned. “You’ve never refused a lunch before.”

“I’m not hungry,” the magician sighed, feeling like a migraine was about to come over her. “I’ll eat at home.”

With that, she darted out of the room and straight into the corridor, and it was not long before she was stopped in her tracks by the house maid. Of course she would be, because why wouldn’t Sakuya stop time in such a ridiculous manner? Over tea?

“Alice is concerned about you,” she stated, and it wouldn’t have taken Marisa much ruminating to know that. Of course Alice was concerned, and it was very obvious that she had went directly to Patchouli to tell her as much. Magicians, they call themselves rivals, but everyone’s far too lonely to keep to that idea. “From what she relayed, it seems like you aren’t taking this very well and I wanted you to know that I deeply empathise with you.”

“I’d like to go home.”

“I won’t stop you, but considering I highly doubt as of now you’ll read the Moriya Shrine Maiden’s nor my own letter, I will at least tell you the contents of mine. You’re welcome to come and visit here as often as you wish, for as long as you’d like. The young mistress has taken a liking to you, and although you nuisance her, Miss Knowledge is fond of your presence too. The mistress herself though, she would like to hold a sort of gathering to commemorate the Shrine Maiden on our property, and you are of course invited. There are a lot of people who will be attending, and a few of them I know would like to talk to you. That’s all. Go home.”

Well. Now she didn’t really want to.

There was a sort of sick, twisting feeling that had been settling in Marisa’s gut for days. It was like she was always on the verge of vomiting, and it had now set in that the feeling was guilt. It seemed everything she was doing was wrong. Though she hadn’t meant to, she had riled up and upset Alice. She had now disappointed the Scarlets and probably poor Sanae too, and she didn’t even know why she was behaving this way.

Sakuya was looking at her, and it was like she could hear it all. She seemed to look right through her and understand. Like it was her own thoughts. Like she had stood here before.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself,” she said, after a long pause. “You shouldn’t feel guilty about grieving either. Please, all I ask of you is that you don’t push away the people in your life who are still here and who still care. Read Kochiya’s letter.”

“I didn’t expect to get this kinda advice from you of all people,” Marisa huffed out a laugh, biting her lip.

With that, Sakuya simply smiled, and gently guided the magician into the tearoom where Remilia and Sanae were waiting. A great spread of desserts was laid out painstakingly on a few tea stands, and Marisa would’ve been a liar if she had said she wasn’t interested in tasting some. There was a beautiful scent permeating the air, which had to have been the tea that was gently brewing off in the corner of the room. It was jasmine- at least that’s what she identified it as. Remilia ushered her to sit down and so she hurried into the seat next to Sanae, who was smiling at her apologetically.

The tea service began, and Marisa quickly found that she had been right. It was indeed jasmine. As they began to sip and pick at the little desserts, conversation picked up once more. Remilia seemed to have gotten a bit wiser about the sort of delicate situation Marisa was in, and so directed a few questions to Sanae about the Moriya Shrine’s business. For her part, Sanae had the good grace to seem incredibly embarrassed about being asked this so soon after the announcement of a dead shrine maiden, and she gave short answers. Marisa tuned it out. Was that macaron made out of berries? She’d never tasted anything like it…

Seeing that avoiding the witch wasn’t going to make for a very entertaining teatime, Remilia asked if she had visited the village yet. She hadn’t and had no intention to until she physically had to.

Remilia seemed confused, but didn’t press further, instead discussing the many foreign ingredients that she had imported to make the spread before them. There were a lot of words in a language that Marisa hadn’t ever heard of before and therefore sat in confusion upon hearing, but Sanae was incredibly receptive.

They both essentially talked amongst themselves, and it left Marisa feeling somewhat guilty. Usually in social situations like this one, she thrived. It was fun to float around everyone at a party, laugh and drink and scurry off to another group of people. Now, it felt like it was difficult to speak to 2 other people. When Alice had visited and they had argued, it was hard enough to open her mouth let alone muster up enough energy to snap at her. It felt awful. Sanae and Remilia tried to give her ins into their conversations, but she didn’t take them up on it. It was too hard. And it sucked. These people were trying their best to be there for her, and yet she just was not present.

When she had lost Mima, that was one thing. It was always going to happen, and she’d been at peace with that. It was difficult for a little while, but it passed. Swearing to never speak to her parents again was not the same as losing them entirely. This was the first time, she realised, that she was actually feeling a form of all consuming grief. Which was ludicrous because there was no way that she truly believed that Reimu was dead.

If she said that at the tea table though it would probably just prove to the other parties there that she was losing her mind. Her thoughts drifted to the letter in her apron. Perhaps Sanae wanted to meet one-on-one? She could be receptive to all of the racing thoughts in Marisa’s head, and maybe she’d even be willing to help her out.

The cakes were eaten, and the tea cold, so Sakuya saw the two visitors out. There was a sort of “you had better remember what we spoke about” look in her eyes as she waved them goodbye.

“Before you fly off,” Sanae reached out and held Marisa’s free hand. “I’d like to ask you to please read my letter. Um… I hope it goes without saying, but the Moriya Shrine will always welcome you, and I consider you a friend of mine before all of that… I guess what it is that I’m trying to say is that whatever you’re going though, you don’t have to experience it alone! Yeah, that’s what I was going for.”

“I suppose what most people do in times like this is turn to religion,” Marisa smirked, but squeezed Sanae’s hand good-naturedly. “I’ll read over it when I’m home. Thanks.”

Sanae’s expression lit up, like it was the best news she’d heard all day. With a nod, she dropped the magician’s hand and waved her off.

Chapter Text

Reimu didn’t do anything about it, but she saw her. That girl from a while ago was always idling somewhere near the torii gates, trying to look invisible. There wasn’t any point to chasing her out since she wasn’t really doing anything wrong, but considering how close she had been to that vengeful spirit Reimu was trying to monitor her activity a little.

Apparently, she was family (of a sort) to Morichika, which only served to make the Hakurei Shrine Maiden even more confused. She’d stopped there a few days ago and had been complaining about her little voyeur to him, lamenting her presence.

“And she just stares and hides behind the pillars!” She had huffed, folding her arms and stomping her foot. Rinnosuke sat behind the counter with an unimpressed expression on his face, clearly tired of having kids run amok in his store. “She was confident enough to fight me a bunch of times, but suddenly she’s gotten all quiet. Seriously, so annoying.”

“Would that happen to be a girl with blonde hair and black and white clothes?” The man behind the counter sighed in response.

“How did you know?” Reimu jumped back in shock. “Don’t tell me she’s doing this sort of thing to everyone! Ah, if that’s the case I might have to step in and tell her off.”

“She’s my former employer’s daughter,” Rinnosuke shook his head, and pointed to what appeared to be a family photo that Reimu had never noticed sitting on his desk before. There he was, standing next to a serious looking man and a rather pretty lady, and in front of the three of them stood the same girl she’d been talking about, although she was a lot younger. “I can assure you, there’s no need to tell her off.”

Since then, Reimu had felt a little guilty. Rinnosuke had told her that girl had ran away from home, and her parents wanted nothing to do with her since. She visited Kourindou but hadn’t set foot in the human village for quite some time. Then, he’d told Reimu off.

“I’d like to ask you not to judge her too harshly like you have been,” he smiled, but Reimu still felt the sentiment of the scolding regardless. “She’s not a bad kid, but she’s going through a lot right now. You should understand.”

Reimu frowned. She didn’t even know what that was supposed to mean. What was there to understand? That girl was lucky. No expectations, no rules weighing down on her. She was far freer than Reimu was. This shrine might as well have been a wooden birdcage.

What made it worse was she didn’t even remember that girl’s name. They’d met a few times, so it should’ve been stuck in her memory somewhere, but it didn’t. Reimu realised that a lot of names didn’t stick to her. She really only remembered Kourin’s and a few notable troublemakers.

So, today again, that girl was hiding behind the pillar of the torii gate, and Reimu was pretending not to notice her as she swept the grounds. Considering the company she had kept after leaving home, she was not in much of a hurry to approach her herself.

Today seemed… different. After only a few minutes of hiding behind the pillar, the blonde girl popped out from behind it. Full of some sort of hidden determination, she walked quickly onto the grounds and past the shrine maiden, who for her part was quite bewildered, and straight to the offering box. She tossed in a couple of coins, but Reimu couldn’t tell how much, before she knelt down and began to pray.

Okay, Reimu would be lying if she said she didn’t watch on in complete awe because, to her knowledge, she’d never seen anyone pray at the shrine. Donations randomly appeared, and if anyone visited, she never saw them as they prayed, just catching a glimpse as they left.

The girl prayed for some time before she stood up and spun around to face Reimu.

“D’you remember me?” She said, staring at the shrine maiden. Everything about her, from the strange style of dress to the flashy hair screamed out to her in recognition, but Reimu couldn’t put a name to her. In fact, Reimu couldn’t say a word. She’d never really spoken to anyone her age before, only adults and even that was sparingly. This was the sort of conversation she had never been prepared for. Instead of a proper answer, instead of words, she shook her head. The blonde girl looked a little hurt. “I see.”

Who was this mysterious girl who had run away from the village? Reimu watched as the girl’s face scrunched up in something that looked like pain, before it returned to normal.

“You knew my master though,” she was glaring daggers at her, and Reimu nearly shrunk. This was far different from a danmaku battle. She was not equipped for this. “Miss Mima. She hung out here. Well, I can’t find her anymore. I thought she was hiding from me, ‘cus I’m not as strong as I should be. I came by to check, and she’s not here at all. You got rid of her.”

Reimu felt her face flush in shame. What should she say?! It was her job to get rid of evil youkai, and though Mima caused a lot of problems it wasn’t as though she had exterminated her once and for all. After their final altercation, she just never saw her again. The girl across from her, however, didn’t look as though she’d believe her.

“…That’s what I would say if I genuinely believed all that,” the girl sighed and crossed her arms. Huh? “I’d like to blame you, but it wasn’t you. She just did what all ghosts do. They move on eventually. I didn’t want to believe it, so I’ve been coming by to see if she’s still hanging out here like she did before. I guess not.”

“I’m sorry,” Reimu blurted out, flushing again in embarrassment of having just stood there speechless. What was so hard about talking to someone her own age in such a normal setting? “I’m sorry that she’s gone.”

The girl in front of her looked confused, before she burst out into a fit of laughter. What kind of weirdo was this?! And why did she have to come and bother Reimu of all people? Couldn’t she go back to the village and bug her parents? Her face grew even hotter, and she felt like she was being made fun of.

“What’s with that reaction?” The girl choked out amongst giggles. “You’re kind of strange. She was a ghost; they don’t stick around forever.”

“Why did you confront me like that then?” Reimu was stammering, like she couldn’t quite grasp what she was meant to do. “I-I’m trying to be considerate!”

“Hey, don’t cry,” the girl stopped laughing, face twisted in concern. She placed her hands on Reimu’s shoulders and was almost a completely different looking girl than she was before. Reimu felt stupid. How could she have been so terrified of this interaction? She didn’t even notice she had teared up. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t kid around like that. I know you didn’t mean anything by it, I’m just all sorts of messed up.”

“Too right!” Reimu sniffed, rubbing at her eyes. “You’re a weird person.”

“Ain’t that the truth?” The girl grinned, and Reimu decided that she hated her. Screw Rinnosuke! What did he know? She didn’t have to be nice to this kid. “I didn’t mean to actually scare you, I really am sorry about that. It’s just been hard to lose her. Miss Mima, that is. I’m taking it out on all the wrong people.”

Reimu frowned.

“That’s why I was sorry,” Reimu fumed. “You know, I’ve lost someone dear to me too. I understand how you feel, I just haven’t really…”

The girl tilted her head in confusion, like some sort of confused animal. Reimu suddenly felt quite laid bare. Well, whether or not this girl had run away from home, she’d still went to the village school with other kids. She knew how to talk to people her age, even if it wasn’t in the friendliest of ways. Whereas Reimu had never really spoken to another child, and she felt like even when she spoke to adults, she was not on equal footing. She wondered if this girl could sense it. That she was out of her depth. That this wasn’t her normal.

“I’m Kirisame Marisa,” the girl proclaimed, taking her hands off of Reimu’s shoulders to strike a pose she must’ve imagined was cool. Reimu found it grating. It was worse considering she knew that this sudden change in subject was almost definitely to ease her own embarrassment about this interaction. “I’m a human magician, and you’ve fought me a good few times now and you still haven’t remembered my name! I’m a little hurt because I know yours, but then again, who doesn’t?”

“Hakurei Reimu,” she deadpanned. “Are you done here? Because I have duties that I have to attend to.”

“It must be lonely over here,” the girl, now obviously Kirisame, whistled as she stalked around the grounds to the shrine. “I was here once as a kid. But there isn’t a bunch of visitors over here. Isn’t it lonely?”

“Are you making fun of me again?” Reimu snapped and smacked the girl’s arm with the handle to her broom. “I’m getting kind of sick of you barging around here. Go back to the village!”

It was a bit of a low blow, considering Kirisame wasn’t aware that Reimu had been told anything about her, and the blonde girl kind of stopped in her tracks.

“I’m never going back there and you can’t make me,” she said, in a tone of voice that rather mimicked her earlier one. Reimu expected some kind of follow-up, but nothing came.

Reimu was a little stunned. Was this girl real? She was bouncing between emotions, but was she really? It kind of appeared like she wasn’t exactly calm at all, even when she took the time to apologise. There was a sort of anxious energy permeating from her. The shrine maiden had to wonder if there was more at play here than just a runaway and a missing Mima.

“I’ll be visiting more often!” Kirisame spun around, smiling brightly like she hadn’t just snapped. Reimu thought she might go blind from how much this weirdo sparkled. “You see, I’m kind of lonely too. It’s tough being in a forest so far away from folks. But if you’re lonely, and I’m lonely, and we spend some time together, we aren’t exactly lonely at all are we? If we’re alone together.”

“I’d rather you never come back,” Reimu huffed. Was this what disdain was? “I’m fine how I am. I’m not lonely at all, and all you’re doing is annoying me!”

“See ya tomorrow!” Kirisame yelled, ignoring her, and rushing past the torii gate and down the steps.

Man! What the hell was it about her that attracted such insane weirdos? Mima was bad enough, but now her little apprentice was determined to become a nuisance too?

There was something cathartic about the flight to the Moriya Shrine. If it was any building that wasn’t her house or the Hakurei Shrine, Marisa felt a lot better about approaching it. That, and it was just fun to get to fly such a long distance. Within Sanae’s letter she had asked the magician to visit her at the shrine, so she decided to do just that.

Sanae kept the place quite pristine, and the snow that was beginning to fall on Youkai Mountain was neatly shovelled aside to create a clear path to the offering box and main temple. It was freezing out today, especially so high up, so there weren’t many visitors there at all today. That made her feel more at ease. No-one was going to overhear anything they spoke about.

The doors to the shrine slide open in a rush and a wide-eyed, excited Sanae hopped between one foot to the next. It was like she had sensed her arrival.

“Come on in!” She beckoned with her arms. “I’ve got a pot of tea on!”

Marisa kicked off her shoes at the entrance and observed the inside of the shrine. In truth, she hadn’t ever really been here before. It looked sort of like the inside of the Hakurei Shrine, but there was something sort of outside-world-esque about it. Sanae bustled over to the kitchen area (which was connected to the large main room of the shrine) and fussed with a fancy looking teapot and tray.

“This place is bigger than I thought,” Marisa whistled, hands on hips. “You’ve got a fancy kotatsu too.”

Sanae gave a little giggle, and she started whiling on about how glad she was that most of her decorations made it into Gensokyo without damage. Then, she pointed to a room at the far end of the shrine.

“I don’t want us to sit in the main sanctuary,” she said, arranging the cups and teacakes on the tray. “Kanako-sama and Suwako-sama aren’t around right now, but I wouldn’t like them to walk in on us having a conversation like that. My bedroom is at the end of the hall on the left, go head in and I’ll be just behind you with this.”

Sanae’s room was… well it was colourful. Marisa hadn’t seen such vibrant ornaments and bedclothes since she’d left home. Even at home, they weren’t quite so neon. Floating shelves littered Sanae’s room and on top of each were intricate little figurines, lined up by height. Her bedsheets were a vibrant blue and there was a circular, plush pink rug that sat in the middle of the floor. A floor desk sat at the other side of the futon on the floor, and Marisa assumed that was where the tea was going to be sat. She grabbed two floor pillows that were sitting next to Sanae’s wardrobe (floral patterned and just as bright as everything else in the room) and placed them nearby the table and plopped down. Sure enough, the tray was placed where she expected and Sanae carefully poured her a cup of tea before she began to speak again.

“You’ve got a pretty bright room,” Marisa laughed airily. “This stuff looks like it’d be expensive. That’s a crazy number of dyes on all these fabrics. I’m kinda jealous. But my house is a wreck anyways, decorating would be pointless.”

“Oh my Gundam’s cost me crazy amounts of allowance,” Sanae nodded seriously. What the hell was a Gundam? “Took hours to build too. But it was worth it! Hey, you’d probably like Lego sets. Maybe I’ve got an unopened one somewhere…”

“I don’t know what any of that means,” Marisa sipped from her tea in lieu of pursuing this strange line of questioning further. “But it’s looking pretty nice in here. So… any reason you had to send me a letter and not just talk to me at the Mansion?”

Sanae looked a little flustered, like she’d been hoping to just sit and have tea for a little while before jumping right in. Normally, Marisa would’ve been fine with doing that, but right now Marisa wasn’t exactly normal.

In fact, ever since she entered, she was struggling to keep from doubling over in pain. Her head was pounding like the God that lived in it was pounding the inside of her skull in a rage. It was probably absolutely appalled to be in another shrine, let alone one that housed Kanako.

“I’ve been wondering,” Sanae frowned, moving her hands together in an odd motion that looked as though it was comforting in some way. “No-one has said this to me specifically, but I’ve been a bit worried about how you’ve been. I checked in on you of my own accord, and even though we met at the Mansion, it’s kind of hard to speak there with Remilia around. Um, it may not really seem like it or anything like that, but I’ve always really looked up to Reimu and I just can’t- “

Sanae choked and broke out into a full sob, and Marisa felt rather helpless to do anything about it. She held onto the girl’s hand until she felt able to talk again.

“I just can’t imagine being in your shoes right now,” Sanae sniffed. “Whatever you have to say, no matter how crazy or how sad, I’ll listen.”

“You aren’t trying to convert me, are you?” Marisa tried to crack a joke, but it fell kind of flat.

“No!” The shrine maiden flew back in shock. “…If I was, would it work?”

“Nope.”

“I see.”

Marisa fiddled with the lace on her apron for a bit, wondering if it was a good idea to tell Sanae how she really felt. Surely the girl wouldn’t believe her, or even want to entertain such a notion. Then again, she wasn’t exactly sure when next she would be able to speak to Alice after their explosive argument, so perhaps now was as good a time as ever.

The being hitching a ride in her head thrashed around and it was taking a lot of willpower to even want to speak.

“Tell it to be quiet,” Sanae’s tears suddenly dried up, and she looked deadly serious. “It may be a God, but right now it is relying on your generosity. If you’re to cohabitate with such a being in your brain, it has to be able to take a telling off. I know you can hear me. Listen to someone who is on equal footing to you, if not your unwilling host.”

Before she could even question how it was that Sanae knew about the Hakurei God pitching a tent in her head, the thing roared with such an echoing bellow that Marisa felt as though her head was about to split in two. Just as suddenly as it came, it petered out into nothing. Like it wasn’t even there.

“I’ve born witness to quite a few Gods having tantrums,” Sanae smiled, like she knew what Marisa was thinking. Right now, Marisa was just trying to fill her lungs with enough air and ignore the cold sweat that had broken out across her skin to even be worried about that. “I could sense it when you came in, but I had no idea it was going to try and torture you for a bit.”

“I don’t suppose this is normal for shrine maidens then?” Marisa coughed. “I don’t think Reimu ever had something living in her brain yelling at her all the time.”

“That’s partially the reason why I called you here,” the Moriya shrine maiden admitted, looking a little sheepish. “I’ve heard of cases of possession before, but that was possession. The host wasn’t in control of their faculties at all, even in the case of being possessed in some way by a God. You’re speaking and talking and moving for yourself. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to hook you up to an MRI and get a good look at your brain activity! Um, well anyway… did the gap youkai give you any advice on this?”

“She told me pretty much the exact opposite of what you just have,” Marisa smirked, suddenly feeling like she had been set up to fail. Damn that old hag, probably was just telling her to go along with it in a twisted game of Simon Says so she had it easier. “She said to just go along with whatever it said for my own good.”

Sanae hummed, tapping her chin, appearing deeply in thought for a minute, before she quickly stood up and retrieved a little pink book from one of her shelves. It had a lock on it, and she pulled out a key to open it from her pocket.

“It’s true that it’s not common practice for shrine maidens to have Gods living upstairs,” Sanae said. “But we need to keep in mind you aren’t a shrine maiden. Clearly, you were not meant to be one, not ever, and I don’t think nature is going to change that. Nor the God. I’m probably the closest parallel to your situation, but I’m not a victim of a God living in my brain, I’m just… a God. It’s gotten stronger since I arrived here, but I’m still a human too. I’m a descendant, not the original. So… If my faith weaned away, I’d still be alive and kicking. We’re similar in that regard, at least. I don’t think anything bad would happen to you if people stopped believing in the Hakurei God. But… that has also been bothering me.”

“Are you sure that telling me all this is the right idea?” Marisa suddenly felt kind of cold. “And you never really acknowledged what that purple youkai told me. You’re freaking me out a little with that book of yours.”

“It’s just my diary,” Sanae smiled. “I’ve got notes on here. I’m skimming around, just give me a second.”

“What a diligent student you are. I wish I had sat next to someone like you in school.”

“You went to school? You?”

“…Briefly.”

She had been top of her class when she had attended too, and just got so bored of the content that she refused to attend anymore. Sanae didn’t need to know that. It was fine for a girl to keep her loveliness a secret sometimes. At that, there seemed to be a groan of sorts that echoed from the recesses of her brain. The Hakurei God seemed to find that cringe inducing.

“Well,” Sanae sighed, having reviewed her notes. “Yakumo is right in saying to obey whatever its saying. Gods are prideful; if you damage a God’s pride you often pay the price. They may make you a little unlucky for a day, or maybe they’ll cause a misfortune to happen to you. Perhaps something greater, depending on how they feel. I don’t entirely agree with that approach, though. I mean, at the end of the day, I’m a God and so is Kanako-sama and Suwako-sama and we’re all just people.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Marisa waved her hand. “When you guys first arrived here, you wanted to overtake the Hakurei God. Man, that’s probably why it’s so pissed off being here. And Kanako gave that bird some crazy power that she was barely able to control. If you guys are just people, I would hate to find out what extraordinary looks like.”

“But I think it’s important that you are able to keep some agency here,” Sanae ignored her, continuing on with her reflection. “Is losing your free will to a God who’s so lacking in faith that it cannot manifest itself a body really the best course of action here? From what I’ve seen, it barely had the strength to incite poor luck upon Reimu. If I were you, I’d just tell it off and go ahead and do what you want. You’ve never been very obedient from all of the stories I’ve heard of you. Why let that change now?”

“I’m worried,” Marisa admitted. “Not for myself, I don’t really give a shit what goes on with me. If it wants to smite me it can go right on ahead, ‘cus I’d like to try and dodge it. I’m worried about Gensokyo. And I’m worried about Reimu.”

Sanae stood up straight, like she’d been alerted of something dangerous. Quickly, she threw the diary onto the bed and dropped to her knees back onto her floor pillow.

“Marisa, I’m sorry to say this but you don’t need to worry about Reimu anymore. She’s probably in Heaven.”

“Please,” Marisa never thought she’d ever do this in her life, but she clapped her hands together and bent her head over. She did not want to be reduced to begging, but if that was what it took then so be it. “Please just hear me out. Alice won’t, not yet anyway because she’s still probably super mad at me, and you’re the only other person I think would listen otherwise.”

Sanae hesitated. Marisa was sure that just like everyone else, she knew this situation was too odd to be fully believed, and so her curiosity would get the better of her. It did. Sanae wanted to know, even though it felt like it was going to hurt. Like it was going to be wrong. But she nodded anyway.

“I think that Reimu is alive,” Marisa picked at the skin on her thumb to try and distract from how panicked she was that she was finally getting to explain what she had been thinking since day 1 of this horrible event. “I know that’s insane. I know you think I’m crazy, but I think everyone else here are the crazy ones. No-one has seen the body besides Yukari, the God is going a little haywire in my head and the barrier is totally okay. There’s been nothing that’s implied it’s breaking down or anything and we don’t have a new shrine maiden. I’ve noticed not a single youkai riot where I feel like there should be and- well. It doesn’t feel like she’s gone.

“I’m not saying Yukari did this at all, I just don’t get it. I don’t trust her all that much, but what she told me that day was true. She’s got no reason to murder a Hakurei. But as far as I know, no-one else saw her after I did. So that makes me the only culprit. But…”

“But it’s obvious why you couldn’t have done anything to her,” Sanae frowned. “Marisa, I don’t think you’re crazy, but I also can’t say you’re correct. Yakumo is an extremely powerful youkai, and I think it’s feasible to assume she would have the strength to maintain the barrier on her own should an emergency like this come up. As for the God, I have no idea. I’m trying my best to find out why that would happen for everyone’s sakes, but you seem far more preoccupied with this theory that Reimu is alive to really help me in my search for truth there. In reality, what happened to Reimu may have been a cruel accident. You’re trying to find the culprit of a murder you don’t even believe happened. I hate to say this, but I think speaking to me about your grief may be more helpful than following this path. I’m a shrine maiden who specialises in miracles, perhaps I can miracle it away?”

It was obvious without her even saying it, but that was what Sanae wanted to do. If she could, she would bottle up all of these horrible feelings weighing down on the heart of Gensokyo and vanish them away. It wasn’t possible. She’d tried as soon as she heard the news. It did nothing more than solidify there were some things that miracles could not solve.

The magician, on the other hand, just felt annoyed. All anyone ever assumed was that she was grieving in a strange way. She was sure when she eventually got around to discussing this with Alice, it would go a similar way. There was a pit in her stomach that just seemed to grow larger and larger as time went on. Just why was it that everyone was so reluctant to acknowledge the possibility? She wasn’t accusing Yukari, there was so slim of a chance that it was her that there was no point to pursuing that line of thought, but maybe someone or something was able to get around her in some way. None of it made sense.

Frustration at an all-time high, and a headache gained for no reason at all, Marisa stormed out of the bedroom and, presumably, out of the shrine. Sanae sat, a little gobsmacked at how quickly things had turned without her even realising it. Her mouth lay agape for a few seconds before her shock was interrupted by her bedroom door sliding open, this time Suwako was behind it.

“I take it things didn’t go too well?” She seemed unsurprised by this. Sanae shook her head, tears welling up again. “It’s not your fault, Sanae. There isn’t much you can do if she isn’t willing to listen.”

“I know!” Sanae snapped, and immediately regretted it. It wasn’t Suwako’s fault either. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t something I can really do anything about. I just wish I could’ve spoken to her more about the God. Something about it is so troubling to me, besides the fact she’s unable to escape it.”

She wanted to ask Reimu for her input, but that would be entirely in vain. Kirisame could believe whatever made her sleep at night, but to Sanae it was obvious. There was no way that Hakurei Reimu was roaming this earth. And she wept.

They were rivals, she supposed, but there was no ill will in any of it. It was all just business, nothing personal. Sanae wasn’t lying, she truly had looked up to Reimu and respected her. Arriving in Gensokyo had been amazing, it’d really been eye-opening to see such a world full of magic upon leaving somewhere dull like the outside world. It came with a newfound power, new responsibilities, and new rules to follow, and Sanae was overwhelmed by it all. Reimu just seemed to float by without a care. Youkai hunting was brand new to her too, and she felt like she wasn’t ever going to be able to match up to Reimu’s abilities in that regard.

She felt the same way as Marisa deep down, but she was able to rationalise that. Sanae agreed, it was inconceivable for Reimu to be dead. Yet here they were, and she was. It was sad, and it was scary, and Sanae felt lost without a guide. Suwako and Kanako were here, so that counted for something. Marisa was still going too, though as the days passed it looked more to Sanae like she was desperate to find a reason to stop. As soon as this whole mess was sorted out, as soon as everyone got a hold of their emotions, things would go back to normal. Well, as normal as they could be without their friend.

The God thing was getting to her more than anything else though. Was that really safe to do? If it was allowed to sit in that girl’s head for as long as it wanted to, wouldn’t that be a problem? Perhaps if it gathered enough faith, it’d be powerful enough to do some serious possession work. If that were to happen, there wouldn’t be a Kirisame Marisa anymore. If Marisa really did follow it’s every command… would that not be equivalent to worship? Blind faith in another’s words…

There was far too much to be thinking about, and Sanae’s head hurt from crying. She held onto Suwako’s hand as they decided to start on lunch together, leaving the tea in the bedroom to clean up later.

Kanako, for her part, was surprisingly understanding when they sat together for lunch. Sanae half expected her to be ready to argue with the witch on her behalf, but though she was upset about the reaction, she ultimately had decided to move on. There was no point, she had said, to trying to reason with a lovelorn human. Especially if they were in the throes of grief. Suwako seemed to agree.

“I think we’re all concerned about her,” Kanako sighed, shrugging a little. “And I understand that she’s your friend Sanae. I suppose the question is, are you recovered enough from your own personal pain to even attempt to remedy hers? I think I know the answer, and you do as well.”

Chapter Text

Aya let out an indignant SQWUAAAAAAK as she hit the ground firmly on her backside, the cry echoing around the cavernous mountainside. Damn, she wasn’t really expecting a nice response, but this was a bit far!

She had seen Marisa leaving the Moriya Shrine and had decided that now would be as good of a time as any to have a little conversation for her paper. The witch had seemed a little annoyed, but that was the usual for most people whom Aya came into contact with. Where Aya supposed that she had gravely misread the situation, was when after she’d answered a question the human had with “I don’t really think that’s got much to do with me, I mean, I’m only trying to do my job”. Said question had been about whether such an interview was appropriate, considering the fact that a funeral for the Hakurei Shrine Maiden was just around the corner. Marisa had hopped off of her broom (this seriously threw Aya off, because she knew she could fly without it, she just never did, and so she wasn’t prepared for what happened next) and began to float ominously in front of her. Before Aya even had the chance to process what was about to happen and dodge, she’d been whacked on top of the head so violently and suddenly with the broom handle that she’d lost control of her flight and landed firmly on the hard ground.

What was all that about? Aya felt quite upset. She should’ve seen that attack coming, she was way too good at dodging to have something like that happen to her. Her only hope was that no other tengu saw it, lest she be laughed at for the foreseeable future.

There wasn’t a need for such a reaction either, in her opinion. Aya wasn’t lying, there wasn’t any ill intent behind asking for an interview. She was a reporter after all, it was her job to report on the important stuff. She supposed it could look a little insensitive, but how was she to know that it was too soon to be asking questions like that? Marisa was the one closest to Reimu, so it really only made sense to speak to her out of the rest of the potential interviewees (Aya had drafted a list). It must be hard to be human, with all those unnecessary attachments to things and people and places. Aya understood but didn’t follow it at all. Didn’t Marisa know that one day she’d also die? Someone out there someday will have the same questions about Marisa for someone close to her. That someone would probably also be Aya. Tengu don’t die in a heartbeat like humans do.

Well, since that lead was a dead end, it would be onto the next potential interviewee, which Aya had determined to be Kochiya Sanae. The flight to the shrine wasn’t a long one by any means, and Sanae was a lot more inviting when it came to speaking to Aya-

“No,” Kanako looked all kinds of pissed off when she opened the door. “For a crow youkai, you’re terribly bird brained. Aren’t crows supposed to be smarter than the average bird?”

“Oh come on!” Aya wailed. “First the black-white, now Miss Sanae. My paper is so ultra-mega-giga doomed.”

“Did she beat you up?”

“Worse! Smacked me right outta the sky like she was swatting away a fly. If anyone’s got a picture of that, I’ll be the laughingstock of the mountain for the rest of my life.”

Kanako chuckled, as though she’d seen it happen before her eyes. Aya pouted.

“I just can’t let you interview Sanae,” the God shrugged. “She’s far too upset right now, and whatever her and Marisa had spoken about left both of them in a bit of a state.”

As soon as she’d said it, she regretted it. Kanako could see the headline already, Hakurei Shrine Maiden DEAD! Moriya Shrine and Forest of Magic AT WAR! and openly cringed. Aya was already scribbling something down on her little notepad, and Kanako grabbed her hand and squeezed it firmly.

“I’m not out here to protect that girl in the forest,” she hissed. “She’s not my problem, but if you put any press on Sanae or my Shrine, then we are going to be at loggerheads. If I see a paper that looks to be about what I just told you, then there’ll be something I need to speak to the tengu chief about.”

That made Aya sweat a little.

“It’s all just business,” Aya smiled, but it came out looking a little more like a grimace. “Right?”

“I don’t think you should publish a salacious newspaper about someone dying anyway,” Kanako dropped Aya’s writing hand and crossed her arms. “There’s already been an announcement, and all of the humans have been invited to attend the funeral. Honestly Aya, this all seems in poor taste even for you.”

“I’m serious when I say that I don’t see how it’s such a big deal,” Aya rubbed her hand, and she was indeed speaking earnestly. “Humans die all the time. Hell, we have a section for obituaries in my paper. Hakurei Reimu was an important human; doesn’t that seem like something that needs to be reported on? I mean, every time she stopped an incident, I wrote up a summary in my paper. It seems wrong to me if I didn’t make an article on it. I’m going around all the people who knew her best to put together a memorial piece.”

“Is it a memorial piece?” Kanako raised an eyebrow. “Or are you going to use those interviews to speculate on a Who-Dun-It? kind of murder-mystery?”

Aya flushed, and suddenly looked very ashamed.

“I fear this is where we differ majorly,” the God continued. “You’re a youkai, you’ve got very little understanding of humanity and their way of life. If you published something like that, you’d be universally disliked. You’re already on rocky terms with most people in Gensokyo, I think that a speculative article on the nature of the death of a shrine maiden might be the final nail in the coffin.”

“As long as I just publish the established facts then I’m totally good then, right?” Aya grinned, like she’d hit a second-wind. “Man. I don’t see how that’s any better than the old lady’s whole announcement though.”

“Just keep Sanae and my Shrine out of it,” Kanako felt like a migraine was coming on. “And try not to speculate or exaggerate. I know the latter is hard for you, so I won’t hold out much hope.”

Aya flew off with an exaggerated nod, and Kanako stood silently. Hm.

It was hopeless. Alice finished the repairs she was making on the doll in her hands and sighed. Shanghai held out a cup of tea for her, but she placed it back on its saucer. Maybe it was time. She had to get drunk.

Honestly, she felt like a bit like a let-down of a magician. Surely something like this was just a fact of life she’d have to face. There were no humans who did not die. In fact, the entire reason she became a youkai magician was to escape such a fate. Even Marisa, whom she was still rather upset with, would die one day. That was what made the behaviour all the more frustrating.

Well, if she’d gotten rid of every earthly desire she had, she’d be a hermit and not a magician. There were many humans around her that she’d had positive relationships with, and she didn’t want any of them to die. That was an earthly desire. To live.

Instead of pouring the sake into a glass like she usually would, she took a swig and then collapsed onto her armchair. Why did things have to be so complicated? When she had been young and naïve and desperate for power, being a magician under Shinki’s care had been so easy. She was terrified to die, and just wanted a wonderful place filled to the brim with things she loved forever.

At the time, she’d looked down on Marisa for how she was seemingly so desperate to become proficient in magic, and yet so unwilling to take the big leap. How else would you become as strong as possible? It was a no-brainer for Alice at least. She’d gotten that grimoire and never once looked back. Well. At the time.

The truth was, now Alice was several years into abandon worms and abandon food and felt like she’d made some incredible mistake. Shinki was gone now. There was no guide. Everyone in Makai was sealed away. All that remained of her time there was Marisa, and in the blink of an eye she would be gone too. Reimu was already gone. She supposed she would always have a research partner in Patchouli, and she wasn’t exactly on bad terms with most of the other people around her.

Magicians were solitary by nature, and Alice wasn’t an exception to that. But still… really, it hadn’t been that long since she’d became a youkai. The pull on her heart for connections with others was still very much present. It was alright, to go a few months or weeks without speaking to another person. Eventually, it became too lonely. As much as it pained her to admit it, her dolls were not the same as the company of another.

She supposed what she was getting at was that she understood Marisa’s decision more as the days passed. That girl acted like there was no place for her with the humans in the village, but it was all a big wall to protect her feelings. She had a home, a real home, to go back to if she ever chose to stop studying magic. She would live and she would die.

So… why did she have to be so goddamn stubborn about it all?!

Honestly! Alice thought she was bad upon learning about Reimu, but Marisa was a whole other beast entirely. As a child, she’d been very angry and prone to pick fights after Mima had disappeared. Some things don’t change very much, evidently, because it seemed like she was determined to piss Alice off to the point of no return.

I mean, it was obvious to everyone that there was no way in hell Marisa had any real plans of becoming a true magician. So why, why would she say such a horrible thing to Alice? It was an insult, right? She didn’t mean it when she said she “wished she had the power to stop what happened to Reimu”, because if she had wished it enough, she’d have just gotten out there and learnt the spells! Alice wasn’t stupid. Someone who had been practicing magic for as long as that girl would’ve learnt the spells by now. You won’t get anywhere as a magician by avoiding the inevitable.

It wasn’t even that Alice felt insulted as a magician. She was insulted as a person. Marisa had lost Mima, and she had been so overwhelmingly sad, but she was still the same person. There had been no talk then of becoming a youkai. She’d just been more determined to study. Reimu dies, and suddenly she’s ready to commit what was essentially suicide.

Alice understood. She did. But how could anyone be so selfish?

It wouldn’t matter if there wasn’t a Hakurei Shrine Maiden to exterminate that girl, someone would do it. No, not exterminate. Kill. Alice would have no-one left in the world that she was as close to as those two stupid little humans.

She was crying again. This sake sucked.

“Are you going?” Kosuzu sniffled, shuffling a few papers around. “I’m gonna go… I just wanted to know if I should look out for you somewhere.”

Heida no Akyuu sighed. Of course she was going to the funeral. In truth, the families of influence within the village were nagging her ear off about the whole thing. Internally, the politics of the village were going quite bonkers. Everyone was yelling at one another, trying to pin blame, and Akyuu had begun to hit breaking point. She’d barely been able to process how she felt, because every day there was a new meeting where she would have to mediate a room of grown men and women bickering.

“You’ll see me there,” she replied, massaging her left temple. “Village higher-ups have a special space they sit. I’m not sure who it is that’s reading the sutra though. Or, rather, who has been doing it the entire time. Perhaps it was the nun. I already know it isn’t Sanae.”

“Ah,” Kosuzu trailed off in thought. “I suppose you’ve lived through quite a few of these…”

“Don’t let me fool you,” Akyuu shifted in her seat. “It doesn’t make this any easier. The situation is rather complicated this time around though. Her body wasn’t found until well after her death, so that gap youkai had to bury her immediately. I mean, I wouldn’t expect a Hakurei to return as a vengeful spirit, but I understand the need to quickly put her soul to rest. That being said, it’s a mystery who has been performing the rituals. Especially considering she had already been buried.”

The girl looked deep in thought for a minute, before seeming to realise it was too much to speculate over so exceedingly and sighed once again. Whoever it was that was doing the rituals would be there at the formal ceremony, so there was no point in wondering for too long. Kosuzu was frowning, staring into the distance.

“I can’t believe they didn’t find her sooner,” she said. “I can’t believe that Yukari just buried her like that either. What if some youkai digs her up and eats her? Aren’t we all doomed?”

“None of the Hakurei Shrine Maidens have been cremated,” Akyuu explained, and Kosuzu’s expression turned to one of confusion. “When they die, there’s no point in eating them. Their power is gone. If she had been alive, though, then you’d have a cause for worry. There isn’t any benefit to eating a decaying corpse anyway. A youkai would just get sick. I don’t think you should be thinking about your friend in such a way, Kosuzu. It’s fine to be sad, but let’s not make ourselves feel worse.”

Kosuzu nodded. It wasn’t like she was trying to freak herself or Akyuu out, there was just so much to think about. Really, it read like one of Akyuu’s mystery novels. She stepped out from behind her counter, sat down next to Akyuu and leant her head on her shoulder. The girl played with a lock of her curly hair, and they sat in silence for a time.

It upset her to think about, but wasn’t Akyuu going to die some day? It was more than likely going to be sooner than later, what with her family’s history. She felt like she was kindred spirits with the Hakurei Shrine Maidens in that regard. Their families were similar in that way. Every one of them dying young.

Though, Akyuu’s life was a bit cushier than that of a shrine maiden. Every morning, servants woke her up and served her breakfast, hot water was always prepared for her for washing in, her clothes were always of high quality, and never did she fall asleep wondering when her next meal was going to arrive. She was lucky. Even though she had been fated to a short life as soon as she left the womb, her condition was improving every day. There was a set date and time every Hakurei’s life would come to an end.

Akyuu wasn’t involved in that side of running Gensokyo, she was merely a record keeper from a good house, but that was enough to be privy to the many arguments of the village elites. Apparently, not only were the circumstances around the death murky, but that was not Hakurei Reimu’s estimated time. Hence, the ensuing political battles between the many houses in the neighbourhood.

It was sad. Akyuu’s family and Reimu’s had been close for generations, given the nature of their role in Gensokyo. She was sure one of her many, many, many, many uncles from years and years and years ago once married a Hakurei maiden. She wondered, sometimes, if that was enough to give their lineage the Heida’s curse of an early demise.

She supposed what was most shocking was the lack of word from Yukari. By now, she would’ve shown up at her door asking to proofread the latest edition of the Chronicle, or to fill her in on missing details. The youkai had been terribly quiet.

Well, it wasn’t worth it to worry over. So much was very obviously wrong in Gensokyo as of now, she was probably busy. Akyuu hummed out a tune to try and distract herself. Kosuzu gently held onto the hand that wasn’t playing with her hair, and they sat quietly for a long time.

There was a loud bang on Alice’s front door, and she immediately knew who it was. She yelled at the culprit to get lost, now trying to nurse a hangover. That sake truly was awful. It was cheap and tasted like poison, but it was better than sitting around, sober and sad.

The door opened anyway, and Alice groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. Footsteps made their way into her lounge, and suddenly she was met with the infuriating face of Kirisame Marisa. Without even letting her open her mouth, Alice snapped her fingers, and a veritable army of dolls surrounded the magician.

“Wow,” Marisa held her nose, grimacing. “You are all kinds of fuckin’ sloshed, huh?”

Hourai fell over. Alice gritted her teeth.

“Were,” she pointed accusingly at the human. “What’s that gotta do with you?”

“Nothin’,” Marisa shrugged. “This whole place stinks like a brewery though. Shouldn’t you tone it down?”

“I’m not taking any kinda advice from someone like you,” Alice growled, waving a hand around in frustration. “Miss Suicidal! Yeah, I’m sure you’ve got all the answers to life and what I should and shouldn’t do.”

Marisa winced. “Clearly this was a bad time to come here.”

“No, it was the perfect time to come here. Don’t you have something to say?”

Seldom did Marisa look sheepish, but right then she did. She looked like she was gathering the strength to say something really difficult.

“I’m sorry,” she practically spat out. “Look, I don’t want to fight anymore. I shouldn’t have said all that stuff a few days back, I was seriously messed up with. Um. You were right, I was acting out again like I was when I was a kid.”

Alice crossed her arms. Marisa was tapping her foot nervously, waiting for a response.

“I don’t think you mean half of that,” Alice sighed. “But I accept your apology. You know, you say all kinds of worrisome things you don’t even mean. If I had to lose Reimu and yourself in the space of a month I just don’t know...”

The dolls dispersed. Marisa let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding in, swaying from side to side.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Marisa said, and she looked like she meant it. “Not gonna become a youkai magician either.”

The way she said it, Alice felt as though she was going to do a secret third thing that she just hadn’t figured out yet. Well, whatever.

“Get out of here now,” Alice groaned. “I’m off to bed again. You’ve got your own house to be a nuisance in.”

The human nodded, running right out like a kid that had just been told off. Some things really didn’t change.

…Maybe she should invest in some painkillers. This headache was splitting her in two.

Chapter Text

Marisa only wore kimono when desperate times called for it, which was usually when her entire wardrobe needed fixed. Today, she was standing in the kimono shop in the village for the first time in years. She hadn’t even been to the village in about a month, come to think of it. Truly, she had been avoiding the area.

It wasn’t because there were people she wanted to avoid, although that was slightly true, it was more because she couldn’t take the questions. Now though, as the old lady took her measurements for the funeral attire, she wished she’d bit the bullet sooner.

“It’ll be so nice to see you in a kimono for once!” The old lady’s daughter sighed. There was a little girl being bounced on her hip as she watched over the fitting. “I remember your first fitting here… Time flies! Though I do wish you had come here on a happier occasion.”

A wedding, Marisa’s brain filled in the obvious. Well, it wasn’t like she blamed anyone in the village for gossiping about that, considering her family. She would’ve been promised to some other bigshot in town by now, had she stayed at home like a good daughter would have.

“There’s still time for all that,” the old lady giggled. “Oh, but how incredibly sad this whole business with the shrine is. I do hope you’ve been keeping well.”

Marisa raised her arms so the old lady could mark down what she needed and gave a little nod.

“It’s been hard,” she laughed a little nervously. “But these things happen. I’m trying to keep my head up, y’know? Don’t think she’d want me to mope around.”

She said that, but there were plenty of people who were aware of the fact that Marisa was, in fact, spending her time moping around. The woman with the baby believed her, at least, and nodded fiercely.

“That’s the spirit!” She grinned. “Oh, you girls were always so close. It surprised us all, you know. That Hakurei girl wasn’t one for mixing in the village. I guess Kirisame-san wasn’t either, though, eh?”

“Your head was always in a book,” the old lady nodded sagely.

“Still is!” Marisa smirked, shrugging a little. “I can’t exactly read and get my measurements taken at the same time.”

The two older women laughed, and after a little more small talk and some scribbling of notes, the entire ordeal was over. The old lady assured her that they’d have it ready by the end of the week, just in time for the funeral. Something that Marisa didn’t realise though was how expensive kimono were. How in god’s name did her mother afford such opulent dress?! Marisa was only getting a black one because her kimonos were all worn out, ratty multicoloured things that were inappropriate for a funeral, but her mother got (or at least, she had in her memory) intricate floral patterns on many of hers. She paid the bill, realising she’d be living on teaspoons of rice for the foreseeable future, and tried not to look too annoyed about it.

Speaking of her mother, it was sure to get back to her that Marisa had been at the tailor. That wouldn’t ordinarily be a problem, but since it was obvious that the entire village was aware of Reimu’s death, it was becoming increasingly likely that they would have an encounter. Unlike her father, who was content with never looking in her direction again, Miss Kirisame was all too happy to butt her nose in where it didn’t belong. Begrudgingly, she had to admit that was probably where she’d gotten the trait from.

Well, it was all fine anyway. It had been a great many years since Marisa had left home, and her parents had given up on ever trying to drag her away from magic. If there was any conversation to be had, she would doubt that it would be a last-ditch attempt to get her to come and live in the village. It wouldn’t be ideal for the fragile mental state that Marisa was sporting. Sure, it’d been a few days since her outburst at Sanae, and she generally felt a bit better, but if her family decided to pipe up during the funeral of…

Some things were better not to dwell on.

Near the centre of town, Alice’s little puppet cart was sat amongst a sea of children. It wouldn’t hurt to watch for a bit, considering there was nothing else to do. Alice, of course, ignored her presence behind the children and carried on with the performance. A hand tugged on her sleeve, and Marisa realised she’d been stood next to Kosuzu and hadn’t even noticed. The girl gave a tiny wave and a smile.

“I didn’t see you there,” Marisa whispered, hoping not to distract Alice too much and reignite an old argument. “Sorry, I’m kind of spaced out. What’s up?”

“It’s just been so long since I last saw you,” Kosuzu replied, also using a whisper. “The village has been kind of hectic though, so I don’t blame you. Were you up to anything?”

“Just needed to get a new kimono,” the magician scratched the back of her head. “Didn’t have any nice ones. Or any black ones. Or any that fit me properly. I’m pretty sure most of ‘em are from when I had left home. Good thing I’m not tall, eh?”

Kosuzu giggled, as cheerful as ever. “I figured that was why you were here. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you in one.”

“Don’t get excited about it,” Marisa poked her cheek. “It’ll be pure torture for me. I don’t even know how to put one on. Well, I dunno how to put it on properly. Like, in a funeral appropriate way.”

“You don’t?” Kosuzu looked genuinely shocked, as though this was a life skill she expected everyone to have. “Were you rich and never had to put one on yourself before?”

Marisa coughed, out of sheer shock that she’d been clocked so easily. Was it so obvious she was some run-away rich kid? Kosuzu looked even more shocked than before, as though she hadn’t pegged Marisa as a former rich kid.

“Oh wow,” Kosuzu hummed in thought. “You really do learn something new every day. Well, it really is quite tough to put on to look appropriate for an occasion like this one. Whenever I head to a wedding or a funeral, my mother helps me, and I help her. It just makes sure we both look really neat.”

“Not a bad idea,” Marisa shrugged. “I might ask Kourin to help me out with it.”

The kids surrounding them dispersed as the show had concluded, Alice walking up with a quick hello.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said, brushing her skirt a little. “It’s nice to see you again, Kosuzu.”

“You’re not interrupting anything,” Kosuzu waved her hand around. “We were chatting about kimono. For next week.”

“I see,” Alice nodded, peering over her shoulders to make sure her puppets were doing their job. “This seems to be something I can’t engage in. I’ve never worn one before.”

“What will you wear to the funeral then?” Kosuzu looked quite concerned.

“Alice isn’t going,” Marisa sighed, hoping no-one would hear what she was about to say next. “Remember, it’s only humans permitted. There’s gonna be a separate gathering for the youkai.”

Kosuzu looked embarrassed, like she was upset for not knowing immediately, but she recovered quickly. The three of them chatted away for a bit, until Alice had to move her cart for another performance. Just Marisa and Kosuzu again.

“You’ll see me there on Monday,” Kosuzu smiled, trying to not look too sad. “I suppose you’ll be pretty busy, but look out for me anyways, okay? I’ll try and say hello.”

“I appreciate it,” Marisa patted her on the shoulder. “I’ve been uh. A little up-and-down lately mood-wise. It’d be nice to have someone friendly there. Wouldn’t be so daunting. Y’know, I’ve never really been to a funeral before and this one… ack, whatever. This one’s quite important to get right. Theres a lot of eyes on me.”

Indeed. Yukari or one of her many spies were everywhere. Like she’d told Alice, it wasn’t much of a request to attend the funeral. It was a command. Thinly veiled, but still a direct command.

Really, Marisa didn’t want to go at all. She’d been pretty hysterical lately, that was true. She was feeling better now at least, but the core of how she felt hadn’t changed much at all. Hakurei Reimu was supposed to be dead, perhaps, but Marisa didn’t believe it. She just couldn’t. Maybe that opinion would be swayed after seeing a whole funeral go by. She doubted it. There was no telling what kind of reaction she’d have there. Only time would tell.

Kosuzu looked like she was about to burst into tears, and Marisa suddenly felt guilty.

“Please don’t be worried about all that,” she murmured. “No-one would think badly of you, funerals are emotional times.”

…Well meaning, but not at all what Marisa was thinking of.

“Don’t worry about me at all,” Marisa grinned, hoping it was reassuring. “I’ve dealt with crazier stuff than a few tears.”

XX, XX, XXXX

Hello friend,

It’s been troublesome here lately! That Kirisame girl has been coming around here, bothering the life out of me, for at least a week now. I hope that by the time you are due to take up the mantle of shrine maiden, she is 6 feet under. She’s got a big mouth on her for a girl who can barely conjure up a couple of stars. For a magician wannabe, she has a long way to go.

She’s been bugging me with all sorts of strange ideas. She keeps asking me if I’m lonely. Why would I be lonely? What does that even mean? I’ve been actively shooing her away, but she comes by every single day to chatter at me. I’m not lonely, if anything I’m inundated with unwanted attention. But today, she didn’t come. It isn’t particularly cold today, nor has it rained, and the wind isn’t dangerous. I had been expecting her all day, waiting for her to pop out from somewhere, but she didn’t. I suppose even annoying girls can find better things to do with their time get busy with other things.

Well, that’s besides the point. I’ve been reading some books from storage about the various kinds of youkai that can be found around Gensokyo. No-one else has really taken the time to document these in one of their diaries, so I’m going to do it. It’s good study habits, and I think it’s a good idea to know what you’re going to encounter when things become more serious.

Take care,

Hakurei Reimu.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

It had now been two weeks since that girl had come to bother her. Reimu wasn’t worried, not really. There had been plenty of visitors that had shown up once or twice and then never returned. Kirisame was one of many, and it wasn’t special that she would just stop appearing.

The storeroom was looking bare as she’d been trying to avoid having to make trips to the village if she didn’t need to, but it looked like it was time to bite the bullet. She had eaten her last cup of rice for breakfast this morning. After checking the donation box to see if there was any extra mon she could scrounge up (it was characteristically bare), she picked up her pouch and headed in the direction of the village.

Today was rather warm, and she was grateful the oppressive humidity hadn’t set in for the closely approaching summer. The leaves were green and bright, the wildflowers that littered the path were blooming, and the clouds were fluffy and high in the sky. It was a wonderful day for a walk. In truth, she was a little grateful that her food supply had run out. That had given her the opportunity to get out and about on such a nice day.

The village was as busy as usual for a weekday. Her budget today was extremely modest, so there would be no meat on the menu for a while. Sometimes people in the village would offer her some discounts because of who she was, and although it was tempting, she couldn’t accept it. Poverty was the reality of serving a god.

The plan was to get the vegetables and tofu and then grab a big bag of rice, considering it would be the heaviest to lug around. Reimu hopped between stalls in the market, before returning to the start to grab her bag of rice. And then she journeyed home.

It was a peaceful day. It was a day like every other day before it, with no blonde magician girl in her ear about danmaku and training, yapping her ear off about loneliness. No, none of that. Just a nice day, where she bought herself some new food and enjoyed the sun.

She tidied away the food she wasn’t going to cook for dinner and sat down at her little desk in her room. Another diary entry written for her successor, another quick revision of her talisman creation abilities and then dinner was prepared. It was delicious, if plain. She bathed quickly, placed her clothes in a basket for washing, put on her pyjamas, and laid on her futon.

Sleep, at this point, would traditionally be the end to a day like this. That was her intention. A long, peaceful day and a nice restful sleep. But she couldn’t. She was plagued by thoughts of the girl in the black and white garb.

…Reimu wasn’t worried. That girl had survived Mima, so there was probably very little that could’ve happened to her. She’d been able to hold her own decently enough throughout their danmaku battles too, so it was unlikely anything would’ve harmed her.

But it had been 2 weeks. Did she not care about Reimu anymore? Well, that didn’t matter anyway. It wasn’t important if she cared about Reimu or not. But was she lonely? That girl? Was Kirisame lonely without Reimu? She had been so curious about Reimu’s loneliness, but she’d admitted herself she was at their first meeting. What was she doing if she wasn’t at Reimu’s? Was she sad? Was she okay? Is she simply just busy?

More than anything else, Reimu felt a sort of restlessness she hadn’t felt capable of before. Like there was something she wanted to do, but there was nothing to be done. Everything felt stale, even if it was perfect. Something wasn’t right. She felt… impatient.

The kimono felt like it was staring back at her. The old lady had handed it over wrapped up perfectly, but now it was laying on Marisa’s unmade bed she was suddenly terrified.

It was today.

When she put this on, it was a confirmation of sorts. A confirmation that she’d be going to the funeral, but also a confirmation that she really believed that a funeral was warranted. She wasn’t sure on that last one.

This thing was heavy, nothing like anything else she owned. It intimidated her, in truth. She wasn’t some elegant lady who knew how to move in clothes like that, or how to dress in clothes like that, or how to do anything really now she thought about it. There wasn’t anything that she could do though. She had to see this through. But no way was she getting this on by herself. She gathered it up as neatly as she could and ran straight to Kourindou despite how freezing it was outside.

Rinnosuke, for his part, looked unsurprised to see her there with a bundle of black clothing. He was already dressed. Marisa saw him and felt like she was about to scream. It was real, it was happening today in a couple of hours, and he was ready. Everyone was ready. But here she was, in her bedclothes and her hair in the world’s messiest ponytail, dishevelled and not.

He looked at her, and she looked back. And she burst into tears.

She hadn’t visited him at all, not once, throughout the entire time she was running around Gensokyo. Unlike everyone else, he never chased after her or tried to force her into a conversation. He knew her too well to try. Even now, he said nothing, and just hugged her.

Marisa couldn’t remember the last time her mother or father held her. She must’ve been too young. Whenever she was sad, it was Rinnosuke who was there to hold her hand and comfort her. He made up where her parents had lacked. She’d never had an older brother, and Rinnosuke was ancient by human terms, but he was a pretty good comparison to one.

He let go, and Marisa was still hiccupping from sobbing. He took the kimono from her hands, handed her the nagajuban and the kimono. Quickly, she ran into the back and changed into them, and placed the kimono over it before walking back into the main area of the store. She crossed it over properly, because even she wasn’t stupid enough to walk into a funeral with the right side over the left. Rinnosuke worked on the obi as she stood and tried to breathe properly.

“I can’t do any fancy bows at the back,” he said. Marisa didn’t care, and he knew that.

“It’s fine,” she choked out. It really was fine.

She rummaged around the store for a brush to drag through her hair and was soon handed one. Walking around in this kind of dress was hard, so she appreciated it. As usual, the waves had gotten knotted together. It hurt, but that didn’t matter.

“You need to tie it up,” Rinnosuke muttered. He was sitting behind the counter. “In a bun.”

“I can’t do those,” Marisa threw her arms in the air, hitting the threshold of frustration she was able to withstand. “I just won’t go. There. Sorted!”

“Marisa,” he started, but he was interrupted by the opening of the door. That was weird. No-one except Marisa and Yukari would just waltz in when the store was so obviously closed.

With the exception of her mother, apparently. There, in the doorway, she stood.

As a child, she’d heard many servants and village people talk about Miss Kirisame. Rumour was that she was from the outside world, but Marisa couldn’t prove nor disprove that. People did call her ‘Miss’, so she assumed that had a lot to do with the rumour. She was beautiful, supposedly, but Marisa couldn’t confirm or deny that either. She was pale and blonde if that counted for anything. All Marisa saw when she looked at her was the statue at the dinner table, unmoving and uncaring. An opulent statue, but a statue, nonetheless. Truly, she thought, it was depressing to be so aware of how little you knew of your parents. They probably knew even less about her.

That being said, upon seeing her, Marisa couldn’t move. In fact, it was difficult to breathe. Where was her father? He was never far behind her mother, that was for sure. She half expected him to jump out from behind her and drag her home by the hair.

No such thing came. Miss Kirisame merely looked at her and held out her hand. Marisa didn’t move.

They hadn’t spoken in years, hadn’t seen one another in years. Marisa had expected to come across her at the funeral and she was fine with that, really, she was fine with that, so long as she was far enough away that there was no danger of a conversation. But now, she was here in Kourindou holding out her hand for what? Why?

“Hand me the brush,” Miss Kirisame clarified. “You can’t attend a funeral with your hair like that.”

Marisa glanced at Rinnosuke, who looked equally as shellshocked, and extremely guilty. How did her mother know she’d be here? Was it really so predictable?

“No,” Marisa blurted out. Miss Kirisame’s expression was unchanged. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“There’s no special reason,” Miss Kirisame replied. “Hand me the brush.”

Marisa nearly laughed. This was ridiculous. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was never, ever supposed to meet her parents again especially not under circumstances like this. But her mother stood, holding her hand out, waiting for the brush to hit her palm.

There wasn’t anything to fight about here. They’d both just end up late to the funeral if Marisa continued to refuse, and a glance at Rinnosuke only solidified that. Gritting her teeth and baring this was the only way forward.

Marisa slammed the brush into her mother’s palm, refusing to make eye-contact all the while, before stalking over to one of the stools Rinnosuke kept around the store and sitting down on it. God, even sitting down felt like effort. Her mother walked up behind her silently and began to mess with her hair.

She’d done this before when she still lived at home, but not often. Through the years, she’d stopped being the one to do her daughter’s hair. Stopped dressing her. Servants did, and then Marisa chased away the servants and ended up doing it all herself. Her kimono was never neat, and her hair was never up.

Her mother’s fingers grazed through her hair, untangling waves, and pulling everything into a taut bun. It all reminded her of home before things became unmanageable. She felt sick.

After her mother was done, she walked back around to face Marisa. She’d gotten older, the magician realised. She’d never really thought about that. How her face may have changed.

“I have something for you,” Miss Kirisame said. “And, before you ask, your father has no idea about this. This was all me.”

Miss Kirisame placed the brush on the counter and pulled out a small pouch and a white tied envelope. Marisa didn’t know what to do. Why would she accept something like this, whatever it was, knowing everything she did about her family? Was this a bribe?

Sensing her hesitation, Miss Kirisame put them on her lap. Since she could now see it closer, the envelope was-

“I’m not a Hakurei,” suddenly, she felt like she was full of rage. This was a money envelope. The kind you give to a grieving widow at a funeral. Something you’d give to family of the deceased. “Take it back.”

“You wouldn’t be the type to take someone else’s name,” Miss Kirisame said. There was no expression on her face nor a change in her tone of voice, but Marisa felt like she was being mocked. “Your father was upset when he realised. He’s only going today to save face. Inside the pouch is the money for the kimono. You’ll starve otherwise.”

“What? We weren’t like that!”

“Please.”

Marisa’s face was hot with embarrassment, wondering how on earth everyone had known so plainly. Her rage was quelled only barely by the wave of shame she felt beaming down on her from the woman who was supposed to care about her the most.

It was shocking, though, to watch as her mother’s face contorted into something that resembled primal fear as she barked out the word please.

“I was not supposed to do this for you,” Miss Kirisame was speaking hurriedly, like she had to get it off of her chest because there was no more time left to waste. “I’ll never agree with what you’ve done with your life, who you’ve pursued or how you’ve behaved. We’ll never see eye to eye. I won’t see you marry, and I hope that I won’t be around for your funeral. This is all I can do.”

“So you’re also saving face,” Marisa felt like this situation was so much weirder to navigate than the whole ‘dormant god in her head’ thing. She rolled her eyes. “Neither of you ever change.”

“If that’s what helps you sleep at night,” Miss Kirisame seemed to recover, looking far less frantic. “…We wouldn’t have minded quite so much had it been a different girl. At least with anyone else, you both would have been happy. There was never any chance of that happening with a Hakurei.”

“Didn’t I just tell you that it wasn’t like that?” Marisa snarled. “And what is that supposed to mean, anyway?”

“You must think I’m stupid!” Her mother bellowed, foot stomping on the floor of the shop. This was the first time she’d ever seen her mother so angry, and the first she’d ever heard her yell. It was a little scary. She started to pace around, but never broke eye-contact. “People talk! Do you think you sleeping over at the shrine and visiting every day and being glued to that Shrine Maiden’s side wouldn’t get back to us? Did you think no-one knew? What else was it then, hm? Perhaps there was no formal arrangement, but you may as well not carry our family name anymore. You’ve practically married into a family destined for death! Oh, but I am the villain for wishing for a more normal life for you.”

Rinnosuke had stood up at some point and placed his hands on Marisa’s shoulders. It was an attempt to calm her down, but they both knew that by this point things were beyond the point of calming down.

“I’ve known of 3 Hakurei Shrine Maidens in my lifetime,” Miss Kirisame was still pacing. “All of them dead before their 30s. Of course my bull-headed, reckless offspring would fall into a relationship with one! Why wouldn’t she? Learning magic, mere steps away from inhumanity and expecting us to house you and turn our family name into a social pariah. Of course you wouldn’t settle for something ordinary, like a village boy or girl. It had to be the most painful, difficult path possible! Was it her power, was that the appeal? Because you won’t get any of it. I doubt there was anything else worthwhile about her.”

Marisa was saying something, but she couldn’t hear it. She couldn’t see either. She just knew that she was lunging at the woman in front of her, trying her best to tear her limb from limb. Rinnosuke was restraining her, which was probably an easy task. Marisa had never been very physically strong, and magic just made her body weaker over time.

Why? Why, after so long, did she still know how to rile her up so badly? Hot tears streamed down her face, and when she came to her senses her mother was long gone. The pouch and the envelope lay on the floor. Rinnosuke was still pinning her arms behind her, and she ended up slumping onto the floor.

He dropped her arms, and she used the freedom to pick up the little white envelope. It was a wonder that her parents could still be so upset with her. Well, to an extent she understood. She just didn’t agree with how they went about all of it.

No matter how much her mother yelled at her about her choices in life, the fact of the matter was her husband had thrown their 10-year-old daughter out of the house for looking at grimoires. Well, he didn’t throw her out, but what he’d done was the catalyst to her running away in the middle of the night. It wasn’t exactly defensible. She’d sat by and watched it all. Watched as he’d dragged her into the dining room by the hair, watched as he threw her books at her and yelled and stormed around and shoved. Miss Kirisame wasn’t mother of the year by any stretch of the imagination. Marisa knew. If he’d been brave enough to do that to his own daughter, he wasn’t scared to do it to his wife.

She’d snuck behind his back today though. Brought Marisa money, brushed her hair. Spoke with her. If her father knew, he would fly into a rage no doubt. Why? Why would she do all of that, try and do something nice, genuinely try to be there for once, only to spit back something vile?

Whatever her family had to say about her, that was fine. She expected nothing less than complete vitriol. Reimu wasn’t a part of any of that. They had no right to smear her name, especially not in front of Marisa.

None of that stuff was true either, right? About Reimu’s family?

Rinnosuke tried to touch her, but she smacked his hand away.

“Did you know?” She choked out. “That she would come here today?”

“No idea,” he replied, and Marisa believed him. He was a bad liar. “Sorry I didn’t step in- I didn’t think you’d want me to interfere.”

She nodded. Ordinarily, if Marisa had received money, she would never have passed it up. But this felt dirty. She tucked the pouch and the envelope away. She’d decide what to do with those later.

“Gimme a hand up,” Marisa wiped the tears from her face with a sniff. “We need to head over soon.”

Marisa had never seen so many people on the shrine’s grounds in her life. Yukari had given her specific instructions on where she was to stand, and from here she was just gazing out into a sea of village people. Though youkai weren’t permitted, Yukari was floating around to ensure things went well. Marisa made eye-contact with Akyuu, who was in one of the rows of seating at the front. There was a polite nod of acknowledgement, before Akyuu went back to looking stoic.

This was scary. Were most funerals so large? Behind her, Sanae (who had very pointedly avoided looking in her direction at all since she arrived. Marisa would’ve been offended; had she not been so bewildered as to her being there. She was under the impression she had refused to do the service, at least from the gossip she’d been hearing around the place. Marisa felt like Sanae was yet another person she should apologise to) was reading out funeral rites that Marisa was too nervous to pay attention to.

All she really had to do was stand there and look sad. She was doing a pretty good job of it so far, because she was standing there, and she was most definitely sad. Her eyes were still rather puffy from the extended crying session that was her impromptu meeting with her mother, and even now as she stood here it felt like the tears could start again any moment.

Crying in front of Kourin was fine, as was crying in private. Marisa wouldn’t be able to live it down if she were caught crying in public. But she was suddenly very aware of the fact that such a thing may not be too far off

As usual, something about this scenario felt wrong. Marisa had never been to a funeral before, but she was almost certain they never went like this. She supposed that Reimu’s death was sort of unusual in nature, but usually a proper funeral involved a cremation and days of sutras and offerings. It had been a while, so maybe those had been dealt with, but Marisa knew that there was no such cremation. Why? Why wasn’t she cremated?

It felt weird. The Hakurei Shrine Maiden was one of the most powerful beings in Gensokyo, but Yukari had buried (or more likely, Ran or some other poor soul had buried) Reimu. What was with the pauper’s burial? Where she was buried, Marisa didn’t know. In all likelihood, it was some enchanted graveyard that would take her a while to pinpoint. Maybe this was something she would have to look into.

…Maybe she could try and properly communicate with this God. It probably knew where the shrine maidens were buried.

Sanae stopped chanting and called out to the attendees to join her in prayer. Marisa wasn’t too into religion, but it was the sort of thing that would be rude to ignore, and so she clapped her hands together and listened intently until the girl behind her had finished. Once that was over, something seemed to be happening.

A line began to form, like that of a snake. From the front row of seating to the people standing in the back, they all began to file into a sort of queue. Many families simply left as soon as it was done, though, and there was really only a handful left in the queue. Marisa felt perplexed. Then, the village chief walked up to her and held her hand. He patted it gently, expressed his condolences, and walked off.

Ah.

Marisa tried to ignore the bubbling fear in her gut that she would once again be face to face with her mother and father in a matter of mere minutes and tried to focus on thanking everyone that was speaking to her. Whenever anyone handed her one of those little white envelopes, Yukari would hold out her hand to take it. She seemed to be placing them into a wooden box, probably for safe-keeping. By the time Akyuu came around, Marisa was starting to dissociate a bit, so she was thankful to see a friendly face. Akyuu was formal as ever, and handed her the white envelope, glaring at Yukari. Marisa had no idea if the two knew each other. Yukari didn’t hold her hand out. Marisa tucked it into her kimono.

She barely recognised half of the people speaking to her, though they were supposedly influential families. She felt like she wasn’t even there talking to them, not really. That did not last long.

Suddenly, she was staring at her father’s face for the first time in years. He was like she remembered, only he looked older. He was saying something to her that she couldn’t hear, but she knew even if she was able to process it, it would only succeed in making her angry. He was waiting for a response. She broke eye-contact with him, staring at her mother. Not even a trace of what happened earlier appeared to cross the woman’s mind. Marisa didn’t know what to do, so she did all that she could.

She ignored them both, choosing to speak to Kosuzu’s family who was right behind them. Marisa had no idea what the reaction was, but Yukari seemed amused. She had enough of her family for a lifetime at this point.

People came and went, until eventually it was just Yukari, Marisa and Sanae standing on the grounds. Yukari beckoned Marisa into the shrine and dismissed Sanae who looked all too eager to leave. Tears were prickling at the corners of her eyes and Marisa tried to say goodbye, though it felt like her voice was somewhere far beyond her.

“Unusual to see you dress like this,” Yukari commented, sitting down with her wooden box at the kotatsu. Marisa sat across from her. “It’s a little bit uncanny.”

“I could say the same about you,” Marisa replied, itching to undo the bun her hair was knotted in. “You usually dress more vibrantly.”

“I don’t think purple is funeral appropriate,” Yukari chuckled. She pushed the box of envelopes over to Marisa. “Open them, please, and count what’s there. Don’t worry, no-one is going to steal it. It isn’t for you, either.”

Marisa frowned but began to do as she was told. Yukari continued as she counted.

“Today must not have been easy,” the gap youkai looked relaxed. “I have to say, I was expecting far worse from you in terms of behaviour. Gold star for that one.”

“I’m not totally feral,” Marisa snorted. “It probably helped that I got most of my feelings out of my system before I arrived.”

“…You know that I’ve never particularly been fond of you,” Yukari hummed. “Right?”

Marisa knew. “Yeah, you said we’d have to act more like a team.”

“If it were up to me, you would never have been allowed back at the shrine,” she was drawing a circle on the table with her finger, ignoring the girl in front of her. “But it wasn’t up to me. I’ve spent too long sleeping and gotten lazy, hmm… well I suppose what I’m getting at is that if I were in Reimu’s shoes, there would be diddly-squat for you when I died. Alas, I’m not Reimu, so you’re a lucky duck.

“It’s strange, really. Everything she owned was supposed to be passed down to her successor, but there are certain things marked in a box with your name on it. We found it when we were preparing for today. Really, I shouldn’t give you any of what’s in there because you aren’t a Hakurei and you’re certainly not a future shrine maiden, but that rule feels quite dated. I always felt bad when husbands couldn’t receive a ribbon of their wives or daughters.”

Marisa froze. Yukari just smirked. Old hag, Marisa thought.

“So are you going to give me it?” Marisa was still counting the money in the envelopes. “Or are you just going to sit there and taunt me with it for some sort of sick reaction?”

“Oh you’ll be given it in a minute,” Yukari shifted how she was sitting. “I’d like to know how much money is there first. Think of it as your reward.”

Marisa rolled her eyes. Of course. She continued to count out the money as Yukari watched her, and as she got to the last one, she placed the cash into the box and wrote the total on a tiny slip of paper. Yukari smiled, placing a lid on the box, and stashing it away somewhere.

“It’s for the next shrine maiden,” she explained. “It’ll be here for her when she’s old enough. Now, that box of yours… I’ve had it delivered to your house. What? I hope you weren’t expecting to open it here! No, no. After what all has happened today, I think it’d be in everyone’s best interests if you went home. I can’t have you causing a scene at the Shrine.”

Marisa fumed, making a rude gesture with her hands, and immediately headed off on foot to her house. Flying without her broom just felt uncomfortable and odd so she’d rather run it instead. Yukari was probably laughing at her. Old bitch.

Just as she’d said, right outside Marisa’s door was a box with her name on it. It was Reimu’s handwriting. Lifting it up, it didn’t feel too heavy but there was certainly something in it. It crossed her mind then that this might be an elaborate prank, and she’d open it up and be met with a sucker punch from a kappa machine or a spray of glitter. She’d really put nothing past Yukari’s twisted sense of humour.

She took it inside and placed it on her study desk. It felt like it was too scary to open it. She felt like she did the day she went to the shrine. Like she shouldn’t do it.

What else could she possibly do? If it sat on her desk forever, it’d just haunt her thoughts. Opening it was the only way forward.

And so she did.

Chapter Text

When Reimu awoke the next morning, she spent a few hours scrubbing at her dirty clothes and hanging them out to dry. Breakfast was next. Her tea brewed wrong, and it tasted funky. Man, who cares? She threw it out and sat at her desk to study a few rituals.

An hour passed, and then she decided to venture onto the grounds. No-one there, as per usual. Frown set on her face, Reimu wondered if she should actually be worried about that girl. If she was a runaway, where was she getting the money for food from? Was she eating? She supposed Morichika would help her out some, but- yes! She could go and ask Rinnosuke about it.

Kourindou was empty, save for the man who sat behind the counter. He raised an eyebrow as Reimu walked in, as though he was perplexed.

“What brings you here today?” He asked, studying the girl carefully. “I’ve got a bit of a sewing project I need to attend to in a bit, so I hope you’re not about to add onto that pile.”

“I’m here because of Kirisame,” Reimu felt her face bloom a bright red. She usually only ever came here to get help with identifying items or buying something useful from the outside (Reimu knew how to darn her clothes and so didn’t need to ask for help fixing them) so this was embarrassing for her. Especially since the last time she had been here, she’d been complaining about that girl. “Um. Has she been here lately?”

Rinnosuke looked like he wanted to laugh but was doing the adult thing and refraining.

“She’s come by a few times,” he admitted. “In fact, you’ve just missed her. She’s been practicing something from a grimoire she picked up, and whatever it was, it has destroyed her clothes. She handed them in to be fixed a minute or two ago. Anything you need me to tell her?”

Reimu crossed her arms and shook her head, still feeling the embarrassment flowing from her in waves.

“Is she okay?” Reimu couldn’t make eye-contact anymore and stared at the floor instead. “Since she’s on her own. Has she been eating okay?”

“You shouldn’t be so worried about her,” Rinnosuke smiled, like he’d learnt something interesting. “There are lots of plants in the Forest, and she’s a smart enough girl that I’m sure she’s planning on catching a rabbit in a trap or something. She comes here and steals some stuff from me every time she visits too.”

“She’s stealing from you?” Reimu gasped in horror, with all the innocence of someone who grew up without an older sibling to steal from. “You should set up wards or something!”

“It’s not that serious,” he tried to reassure her. “I’d rather know she was eating than not. I’m trying to be there for her as much as I can without hovering over her. Marisa would hate that.”

Rinnosuke seemed to think for a minute, and Reimu felt a little bad. She hadn’t really realised how close those two were. If they were a sort of family, it would only make sense that Kirisame would come and go as she pleased and took whatever she saw fit as she left.

“Say,” he piped up. “You aren’t busy, are you? I was just thinking, if you had the time, you could help me with mending these clothes? It’d make it quicker for both of us.”

Reimu tried, and ultimately failed, to hide her excitement. Finally! Something to do! Rinnosuke walked her into the back room of the store which appeared to be just a storage and break area and handed her a black skirt.

“I don’t doubt your sewing abilities,” he said. “But if you mess up the stitching, it’ll show up less obviously on black fabric.”

They sat in the back for the rest of the day, sewing away at the clothing set. Rinnosuke told a few stories about his time travelling many years ago, and Reimu remembered that he was actually quite old. Her thoughts drifted back to the many teachings in her predecessors’ diaries about how youkai were not to be trusted, and that she shouldn’t fraternise with them.

Well, it wasn’t like Reimu disagreed with that or anything. Youkai weren’t to be trusted, and they were dangerous to human beings. But when she sat with Morichika, she wondered how true all that was. He was half youkai, which must be a unique experience on its own, but he’d never come across as dangerous or untrustworthy. The fact he was so concerned about both herself and Kirisame was a testament to that.

The more Reimu thought about it, many of the youkai she’d come across were just causing silly nuisances because they were bored. There was little to no malice behind most of the stunts that they pulled, and most of the time it was ultimately out of a sense of boredom they did anything.

People needed to be scared of youkai. Gensokyo would collapse under its own weight otherwise. But…

“Oi! Kourin!” A familiar voice bellowed from the front of the store. “Have you finished yet? I can’t move right in this damn kimono. How do the girls in the village put on those really fancy ones and not just wanna rip ‘em off after an hour or two? I’m sitting side saddle on my broom, and it sucks.”

Reimu felt herself panic. She passed the skirt to Morichika, who looked a little amused by her immediate reaction. He shook his head and stalked out into the front of the store with the clothing in hand.

“I’ve got it all here Marisa,” Reimu heard him say. “It would’ve taken two days with the amount of damage you’d done, but I had a hand from someone.”

“No way you’ve got the cash to be hiring helpers,” Kirisame giggled, and Reimu fidgeted with one of the thimbles she’d been using. “Who’s the poor soul you’ve got doing this for free?”

“Hakurei Reimu,” Rinnosuke answered, and Kirisame sputtered on in response. “Why are you so surprised? Isn’t that your friend?”

“Hey!” Kirisame must’ve stomped her foot. “Why’d you say it like that? Is she still here? And does she come around often? You never said!”

Please for the love of the Gods lie! Reimu thought. The embarrassment would kill her. And actually, yeah, why did he say it like that?!

“She headed off earlier,” Rinnosuke said. “Are you looking for her?”

“Well no,” Kirisame replied. Reimu knew it. She’d gotten bored of her after all. “Not really. I haven’t been to the shrine in a while. I don’t think she likes me.”

“You are a little annoying,” Rinnosuke laughed good-naturedly. “But somehow, I don’t think that’s the case at all. That she doesn’t like you, I mean. Why would she go to the trouble of helping me with sewing your clothes if she didn’t like you? She asked if you were eating properly too.”

Reimu flushed bright red and was glad no-one was there to see it. Why did he just expose her like that? Augh, stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Kirisame wasn’t saying anything, which was making it all worse. Reimu wanted to just jump out of the nearest window and book it back to the shrine. Well, what Rinnosuke had said was true. Reimu did find Kirisame annoying, but it wasn’t like she disliked her. Honestly, she felt a little bad. She hadn’t meant to come off quite so aggressive, not really. It was a way to shield herself from how she truly felt. People her age tended to avoid her, and being friends with anyone was quite scary. She’d been trying to chase that girl off for a multitude of reasons (she was a human magician and those are always a few steps away from inhumanity and Reimu was terrified that she’d go all the way, she had bigger problems like her housing and food and money situation to worry about rather than to be visiting the shrine, Reimu was scared she’d lose someone else like she’d lost her mother) but they were all quite selfish. At the end of the day, it all boiled down to the fact Reimu was terrified of companionship because it would mean the potential for loss. Half of the reasons she was so terrified to let that girl into her private world were because she might lose her.

It was stupid, really. It wasn’t befitting a shrine maiden. She wasn’t supposed to form strong attachments to anyone, since she belonged to Gensokyo at the end of the day. That was sort of silly too, because she knew of shrine maidens falling in love and having families, having friendships with people, but those stories all tore at her heart. Barely any of those girls made it out of their teens, let alone their 20s. If she wasn’t the one experiencing the loss, it would be those she cared about. That was even scarier. She’d known how she felt at her mother’s funeral and wouldn’t wish such a thing on anyone.

“Marisa?” Rinnosuke sounded a little concerned. He’d probably never seen the girl so quiet before. “If there’s anything wrong, you know you can tell me. I’ll be here.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Kirisame sounded a little confused. “I guess I don’t really understand. Maybe she’s having a tough time of it lately.”

“That could be it,” he hummed in response. “But… you’ve not exactly been having a good time either. I’m worried about you, you know. Being alone in that forest… I was quite happy to hear you were visiting the shrine. Having a friend your age would be good for you. She’s a nice girl, even if she’s bad at expressing how she feels. She’s worried about you too.”

“She doesn’t know anything,” Kirisame sounded annoyed, and like she was stomping again. “I’m super nice to her but its crickets!”

It went quiet again, before Kirisame piped up.

“I’ll think about visiting later this week,” she grumbled. “I feel bad. I kinda did a disappearing act on her.”

Reimu flushed again. Really? Was she going to come back? Reimu felt bad too. Even if she was scared, it wasn’t any excuse to be rude.

The two of them talked some more before Kirisame obviously left, and Rinnosuke entered the back room with a smile. Reimu didn’t know what to do, so she just bowed and stuttered out a goodbye before shooting off back to the shrine. She heard him laugh on her way out.

Inside the box Yukari had given her were several things. A folded letter, two books and a white cloth. Marisa felt sick suddenly. There was no mistaking it, this was from Reimu. But why? Had she somehow anticipated this where everyone else hadn’t?

The letter reminded her that she still had the pouch and envelope from her mother, and she tossed both onto the bed so she could focus her thoughts better.

She supposed the most obvious place to start would be the letter, considering it was laying on top of everything else. Even though she’d barely began reading, she already felt like she was on the verge of another breakdown.

Marisa,

If you’ve somehow received this box, then you have either been snooping around in places you shouldn’t, or you’ve been given it as directed. In the former case, you’ll be getting a beatdown, in the latter case:

I’m sorry.

Something terrible has probably happened to me. Maybe I’ve done something terrible. I wouldn’t know, I’m writing this in advance. Regardless, I’m really sorry. I never wanted things to be this way, but I always knew that this would happen.

Hakurei women are not destined for long lives. We are lucky if we get to the age I have. My mother died before her 30s, as did her mother before her, and so will I. Living to your 20s in my family is lucky. I’m lucky. So don’t be upset, and don’t go making trouble over it. This was always going to happen. I’ve always been fated for death.

I hope I’m not too forward, but you made me happy. Really, really happy. Life was mundane, and we spent much of our time lazing around on one another, but that was wonderful. If you hadn’t entered my life the way you did, I’m sure it wouldn’t been anywhere near as nice as it was. I hope you feel similarly.

I won’t get the chance to tell you in life because I can’t. I can’t do it. It’s not because I’m a coward, or because I’m concerned you feel differently. In fact, I’m not worried about that at all. I know how you feel. You’re not the most subtle in the world. I can’t tell you that I want to be with you because I knew I would have to write you this letter and leave you far behind. It’s what made being your friend in the first place so difficult, and why I pushed you away so much. But I can say it in death, so I don’t curse you with the same fate as me.

I like you. I like you a lot. Maybe even more than like. I think that I might be in love with you, however that feels. It’s never happened to me before, so I’m fuzzy on the details. Yeah, I think that’s what this is. I think it’s love.

Let’s meet again in our next life. It might take a while, because you’re probably going to be in Hell for quite some time, but I’m all too happy to wait. Next time, I’ll be a normal girl. I won’t be a Hakurei. We’ll be happy then, and we’ll have all the time in the world.

Take care of yourself until that day comes, please.

Reimu.

Fat tear drops began to stain the paper, and so she placed it carefully to one side. Marisa was tired of crying now, though her body didn’t seem to be. Of course Reimu would write something like this, and how so very like Yukari to give her it so close to an event that was wreaking havoc on her psyche.

She hated to admit when her family was right, but in this case they were. This letter only proved their perception. There was a sort of unspoken thing between the two. Marisa all but lived at the shrine, and Reimu always made double the amount of food for her. They weren’t always together, and they had their own worlds that they were a part of, but they always ended up back on the porch of the shrine, wasting the day away in the end. Marisa couldn’t even begin to comprehend how many times they’d gotten close to something that would resemble an embrace or a kiss. It never went as far. It wasn’t allowed to happen, and now she knew why.

Knowing and thinking something were different things. Prior to this letter, she’d had no real idea of if the girl felt the same way as her, it was just a feeling. But she did. She felt the same. She knew how she felt, and she didn’t act on it because she was going to die someday. Marisa was shaking, like something within her was about to rupture out. Should she have been even more open? To know you were loved only after you’ve lost the person you cared the most about felt like a sick joke.

In order to distract from that line of thinking, Marisa opened the first book that came to her hand. Inside were photos. Lots and lots of photos. When had Reimu gotten a camera? Had she swindled one off of Aya?

A lot of the pictures (all of which were in black and white) were of pretty mundane things. A cherry blossom tree that had bloomed one year, a particularly beautiful fallen leaf, koi fish in a pond, a large turtle who almost seemed to be posing for the camera. They got a lot more specific as time went on. There was a picture of one of the many Hanami festivals they’d had at the shrine, though this one seemed to be right after the famous cherry blossom incident. Everyone was sat around the grounds, drinking. Marisa had no idea Reimu was taking any photos, or that she had a camera. When she was drunk though, she must not have cared about that, because there was a picture of her posing boldly for the camera, Alice behind her looking irritated. Reimu had apparently pestered her too, because there was a photo of her awkwardly giving the camera the peace sign.

There was a photo of Reimu herself, which seemed to have been hard to have taken. A few shots prior showed her rushing to get back into frame for it, until there was a picture of her smiling softly into the camera, unrushed and as she always looked. Underneath was a small caption “bad with timers” and Marisa laughed.

More photos of the mundane. Yuuka’s sunflowers, a shot of Marisa flying away from the shrine, a hand that was clearly Reimu’s holding up her gohei in front of the Torii gate. There was a picture of Marisa and Alice dancing together at one of the many parties held at the shrine, and another of Reimu and Marisa dancing. One of Yukari hanging upside down from a gap, which appeared to look like she’d taken it herself. Marisa asleep at the kotatsu, asleep on the porch, trying to arm wrestle Suika. In fact, there was a lot of pictures of Marisa. She felt a little ashamed she’d not noticed sooner that Reimu was even taking these pictures.

There were more pictures of parties, of their friends, of random objects. On the final page of the photo album, there was another picture of Reimu sitting, looking older than the first picture of herself she’d taken, but just as smiley and radiant as ever. Underneath she captioned it “I think I’ve gotten better” with a tiny smiley face next to it. Marisa wondered if she’d been asking Aya for help to make the pictures look better. There was an increase in quality over time.

The second book was labelled as a diary. Marisa wasn’t quite prepared for that yet. Setting both books aside on her desk, she finally pulled out the white cloth which revealed itself to be an apron. It was like every other that she owned. Maybe Reimu had sewn it herself. Marisa held it close to her chest and collapsed on her bed. In a moment or two, she’d stand up to take her hair out of the horrific bun it was in and put on some clothes that were more her style. For now though, she lay in bed and thought of what might’ve been.

The Hakurei God was a fickle thing. In its days of glory, it was powerful and revered, and that was something that it enjoyed the most. Dealing with youkai was not something it enjoyed, but if it was going to keep its power intact, then it would do anything to do so. The only reason it’d accepted the Sage’s proposal to have the Hakurei family help maintain the barrier was because it felt like it would gather twice as much faith that way. Since the shrine existed on the Outside and within Gensokyo as a point of connection between the two realms, it felt like it had discovered a sort of infinite faith matrix.

The thing with youkai was, though, that they were also very much like Gods. They were liars, and they were fickle too. To the Hakurei God, the deal had been made under false pretences, but that gap youkai didn’t think so. She laughed, clutching her stomach in giddy glee.

She compared the Hakurei God to a thought experiment about a cat in a box.

“Well, you’re more like a cat in a liminal space between two boxes and people can only perceive you as being in one box or another, without ever really being able to confirm it.”

What a lot of garbage!

It had been tricked, though it supposed it was its own doing. The God had been seeking to escape the inevitable death that would await it if it remained in the Outside World and preserve the legacy of its descendants. Gensokyo had seemed like the only way to do that, and it had seemed like an even better deal if the God could exist in two spaces at once. Of course, it should have seen this coming. Even if it existed in two places at once, there was no denying the lack of faith in the Outside would slowly wean away its power as long as any part of it remained there. And yet, it could not leave.

The Hakurei Shrine in Gensokyo was a direct connection to the Hakurei Shrine of the Outside. Since the God was remaining in the shrine, as that was its home, then it was going to be there forever.

If you were that God, locked in the space between and not really “existing”, would you be angry? Would you be sad?

The Hakurei God was. It was pissed. Now it was at the mercy of a bunch of crazy youkai who’d put themselves in a sort of leadership position, even if they weren’t intending on doing much leading after the creation of the border world. Everything it wanted to do with its decaying power would have to go through them. It wanted to curse them, but there was no point. It was alive only because they had saved it, regardless of how tricked it felt by their offer. Fickle though it was, it would’ve been too out of character to go back on some clear show of goodwill, regardless of if there were ulterior motives behind it. And so, the God did nothing.

Surely, it surmised, there would be an abundance of faith within Gensokyo. That would be able to sustain it if nothing else. How mistaken it was.

None of the Hakurei family remembered what the God’s name was. In fact, the God itself did not know. They had no idea what the God was the God of, nor what blessings it bestowed. Neither did the God. Perplexed, the God once again sought out the sukima youkai, who seemed to be equally confused. She had no knowledge of its name either. Well, if even that woman had no idea, there was no helping it.

Faith wasn’t an issue initially, even though worshippers had no idea what they were actually worshipping other than that it was helping maintain the Barrier. They’d come and they’d all pray quite fervently, and the God was happy enough. The Maidens were attentive, and the Hakurei family seemed to thrive. Until one day, it changed.

Less visitors, less donations. The Hakurei Shrine Maiden at the time passed away from a strange illness not long after her father had died. Her daughter was only toddling at the time. That youkai showed up again, with a proposal. The Hakurei God was disgusted, but it had no choice but to accept it. The purple woman promised to take care of the generations of Hakurei Shrine Maidens to come after her, and the God tentatively believed her. There was nothing else to be done. It hadn’t the power to do anything about it, trapped between realms as it was.

“Oi!” Marisa knocked on her head, having gotten over her bout of sorrow a while ago. “Anyone in there? You’ve been dead quiet as of recent, I’m getting concerned.”

No answer. She was obviously trying to get the attention of the God, though it seemed to be ignoring her.

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to accomplish by doing all this,” she decided she was going to speak her mind regardless of if it was going to answer her. It was definitely there. “I mean, I’m not exactly a faith gatherer or anything, and I’m not into all that religious stuff either. You were awful quiet at the funeral earlier too when I hear you’re usually the opposite. Whatever it is, I don’t particularly care. You need to help me.”

There was a noise that sounded like a laugh inside of her head, but not a word in reply.

“I’m serious!” Marisa fumed. “We’re sitting around doing nothing and I’m not gonna do that anymore. I’ve hit my limit on how much I can let things just happen to me. You know something about Reimu’s death, and you aren’t telling me about it. Is she alive? Where’s the body buried? Is she in Heaven or Hell or the Netherworld?”

I have nothing to say to you of all people, its voice boomed in her head. You ruined a perfectly good shrine maiden with your meddling. You should not have gotten involved. Seldom do I agree with the sukima youkai, but you should have been kept far away from my Shrine.

“Is that why you tried to chase me away from the shrine when I went to check on her?” The magician sneered, actually annoyed. Talking to Gods was mind-numbing. “Or was there a special reason that you don’t want to tell me because you’re doing that thing Gods do when they act like their plans are unknowable and mysterious?”

It went silent. There was a reason for that, it said after some time. Though I cannot tell you why, although I really think it would be helpful to you. There are some things humans aren’t meant to know. You should already be aware of that fact. You are a human magician still and not a youkai.

“I think you’re just worried that a certain gap lady is going to be pissed off with you,” Marisa shrugged, finally pulling her hair out of that bun it was in. Ugh, it ached so bad. “You and I, we could team up. Do you know anything about what happened to Reimu?  I want to know.”

I know very little, it replied. You can choose not to believe me. She ventured out after you left, and I wasn’t paying close mind. Then she was dead, apparently, though that is up for debate. I don’t know anything else. I was locked inside of her bedroom.

“What?” Marisa frowned. A God was locked inside of a bedroom? Specifically, a God without a corporeal body to speak of. “I take it there was a seal of some kind on the room.”

Something like that, it sounded embarrassed. She did something before she left. I doubt it was supposed to hold me in there. Some kind of boundary manipulation. I’m not clear on the details. I am not a boundary God, so I do not fully understand any of that. The Maidens do, though. Whatever it was that she did, I could not leave the space of her bedroom. Believe me, I tried. When you arrived on the grounds, I tried to shoo you off by way of amplifying my words since I could not go directly to you. You entered anyway, because of course you did, and I found I could leave by taking up space in your head. Here we are now. Satisfied?

Not at all, in fact Marisa found that she had more questions than she had answers after it spoke. There was a lull in communication for a bit, with the magician pacing around and trying to focus on what exactly to ask next.

“You’re telling me that you’re just as clueless as I am?” She asked, and it hummed in approval. She felt a little sick. “…So you’re not actually going to be very much help then?”

I can help, it sounded annoyed. But I cannot promise you it will be useful assistance. I have limits on what I can tell you. I can help you with most other things, but my power is only getting weaker. Since we don’t have a shrine maiden to replace Reimu, that is only going to get worse. The replacement is not yet ready, and you are lacking in spirituality which only makes this worse.

“I wanna go to the Netherworld,” Marisa said, and the God seemed to splutter in response. “I need to see if she’s there. I won’t believe she’s dead unless I go.”

You cannot kill yourself! Are you out of your mind?

She probably was. But she had no intention of dying.

“I’ll ask Yukari to let me in,” Marisa grinned. “She’ll let me in no problem.”

And when do you suppose you’ll do this?

“After the party at the Devil’s,” Marisa shrugged. “If I’m lucky, Yuyuko will be there, and I can ask her then. If not, annoying Yukari will be the only thing for it.”

Please, don’t do anything stupid. She was fond of you.

“That’s why I need to do this,” the magician huffed. “I’m taking this kimono off and sleeping for a thousand years. Talking to you makes me feel exhausted in all the ways in which I could be.”

Chapter Text

Today would have been like any other. Really, it truly was a day like any other. The only special thing about today was that it was the village meeting. It was an official one, unlike the many random and impromptu ones of the past few weeks. Akyuu didn’t want to have to attend yet another so soon after the last, but if this one helped quell the storm of arguments happening daily, she’d really do anything.

Supposedly Yukari would be there this time, which was advantageous for her. They’d seen one another at the funeral, and it was obvious that Yukari knew what she’d done by leaving Akyuu in the dark. She had no trust in what she said.

All of the important family heads were there, including the Kirisames, which was surprising. They were probably here to save face as usual. They seemed to have zero interest in what any of these meetings were actually about anymore. Akyuu couldn’t blame them. She’d long since forgotten what any of this politics was supposed to result in. According to Kosuzu, though, they’d been snubbed at the funeral. This was probably an attempt at restoring their reputation.

Yukari walked in, dressed in what seemed to be an attempt to blend in with an expensive kimono, and sat down right next to the chief. Akyuu’s eyes narrowed.

The usual stuff was covered rather quickly, until it came to the topic that was hotly debated. The next Hakurei Shrine Maiden.

It was not a secret that many times, a child would be adopted into the Hakurei name. This was usually decided ahead of time because there was a time frame set around a Maiden’s death. From the minute they are born, they’re given an estimation for how long they were going to live. Sometimes, such planning turns out to be unnecessary. Many Maidens start a family, and the first-born daughter then becomes a Maiden. This solves the problem of waiting around for the right child to be born to pass the powers and name onto.

This time was unusual. Hakurei Reimu had died 3 years or so before she was supposed to, and so no children had been planned to take her place as of now. The children born in the village right now were simply too old. No one was willing to volunteer either. Not like people usually volunteered their children anyway. There was no point to having a child bear the Hakurei name in the village. If you were a parent to a son, there would be no point in him marrying her instead of another girl in the village since he would not be allowed to pass on his family name. If you were the parent of a girl, you would likely never see her again nor get to raise her. As such, many in the village were opposed to handing over their children to the Shrine. That was why it was picked ahead of time. So there was no getting out of it.

It was a roulette system that Yukari and the other Sages had devised, or so the story goes, and so it was held closely secret. Really, it seemed like there was no randomness to it at all because there was never a case where one family in the village chosen twice in a row. But it was faulty in other ways, because in situations like this where a death is unexpected, they can’t just spin it again to get a new Maiden. The reason for that would be simple: one has already been chosen.

…or if Akyuu were to follow Marisa’s train of thought: because Hakurei Reimu has not yet died, there is no need for a new child to be chosen since the one already picked out will do.

This was the current dilemma for the heads of the village. People were terrified that their daughter would be taken to be the new Maiden, whilst the family who had been picked out were just confused by the whole affair. Today, again, the heads of the families argued. Kirisame, who was usually outspoken, was rather quiet and his wife seemed to be the one of the two with anything to say. Not unusual, Akyuu supposed.

“Please,” Yukari spoke up softly, but even so everyone turned their attention to her. “Let’s stop fighting. I’m doing everything in my power to attend to the problem with the Hakurei heir. There is a temporary measure in place for now, at least.”

“Would that be Kirisame Marisa?” Akyuu said her first words of the entire meeting, glaring at the gap youkai with all the strength that she could muster. The Kirisames seemed to freeze.  “If so, then I seriously doubt your intentions. She has no spiritual training and she’s a magic practitioner.”

“This is true,” she waved a beautiful purple fan across her face, concealing the lower half of her face. “She’s got no talent for the spiritual arts, and she chases after youkai for nothing more than fun and profit at times. Yes, she truly is the worst possible choice as a temporary replacement for a Hakurei.”

“So you agree that you’re sabotaging the agreement you have with our village?” Akyuu snapped, slamming an open palm on the table.

“I don’t agree,” Yukari shook her head. “I am not sabotaging anything. In fact, I have very little control over this situation. The God speaks to her.”

The room went cold. Akyuu went cold, a bead of sweat beginning to form and travel down her back. This was the quietest the village meeting had been in months.

“I can’t think of a better replacement if the God of the Shrine is talking to her,” Yukari shook her head. “At that point, it’s not up to me to choose a temporary replacement. The God has. It doesn’t even speak to me, and it barely speaks to the Shrine Maidens, so Kirisame Marisa is the only choice if it’s going to be so private. If it were up to me, I’d be making a deal with the Moriya Shrine right now, but it clearly is not up to me.”

“E-even if that is the case,” Akyuu glanced around the meeting table, and saw that everyone’s mouth was hanging agape. Her own mouth felt dry. “Is there no way to expedite the transferral of the Hakurei name to the child that was chosen?”

Yukari laughed like that was a silly question, “of course there is! Alas, she is not yet born.”

Kirisame stormed out, his wife behind him. It must have been news to him as well. Akyuu had no idea how to approach this further, especially since the rest of the families and the village chief had nothing to say.

“It’s not as bad as you are all making it out to be,” Yukari played around with her fan. “She doesn’t gain anything from this arrangement, except for a headache. She isn’t host to a God willingly, and it isn’t in the same way that a Shrine Maiden is. I’m honestly surprised she’s not dead, but the Hakurei God has been weaning in power for hundreds of years. I don’t think it’s current power level would cause too much damage. She isn’t a Hakurei, not by name at least, which is what makes this temporary.”

What did that mean? Yukari seemed to notice the questioning look on Akyuu’s face and answered what had not been asked.

“There is a bit of a case of Schrodinger’s marriage here,” the gap youkai laughed. “That’s what I mean. Oh, I don’t suppose anyone here would understand that. I ought to be more careful. The point is, there is an unspoken relation between Kirisame Marisa and Hakurei Reimu. Rather, there was one. I’m sure you have heard tales of the husbands of the Hakurei Shrine Maidens taking care of the grounds and their child until they reach of age. This case is not much different, no?”

Akyuu wanted to scream that it was far different, that there were too many things that made this situation stick out like a sore thumb, and that Yukari wasn’t being helpful as much as she was giving them more questions- but she didn’t. Instead she sat and silently stewed as the arguing started up again, and the youkai waltzed off into the darkness.

Once again, nothing had been solved, and now there was a new argument arising. What were they going to do about Kirisame’s disowned daughter?

Akyuu cursed under her breath and called over a servant. She was tired, she said, and she was feeling rather ill. Immediately she was escorted home, where she took a bath and cried. Everything was so unfair, and everything was only getting so much worse.

She hoped and prayed that Marisa was right. She’d not written a single thing in the Chronicle since the events of all of this were so muddied. She hoped beyond hope that Hakurei Reimu was alive, and that she would come back and sort this mess out.

Everyone was drinking, and it felt kind of wrong. At least, it did to Alice, who was watching over the scenes of what would be a normal garden party at the Scarlet residence had it not been a commemoration of someone’s life. The people attending, which ranged from folks from the Forest to denizens of Former Hell, seemed jolly enough and in high spirits. Alice wasn’t. In fact, she was a little insulted.

She hadn’t come expecting something solemn, but she had hardly expected alcohol to be involved. She was sat at a table with Patchouli since Marisa had not yet graced the party and was people watching since Patchouli wasn’t much of a talker. They were two of the people there who weren’t drinking. She idly wondered if she should’ve brought knitting or some sewing to do.

Since spring was still a few months away and the air was frosty, Patchouli had performed some sort of warming spell across the garden. It was comfortable enough, but Alice felt the same way she did after sitting near a fire for too long. Like the hairs on her arms were burning off.

“You look like you've just been at a funeral,” a familiar voice was laughing behind her, and Alice spun around to find Marisa grinning. “Sorry.”

“Surprising joke coming from you,” Patchouli deadpanned. “You’ve been looking like that for months, so Alice tells me.”

“You youkai magicians are a bunch of gossips,” Marisa huffed, pulling out the chair across from the two and plopping down on it. “Aren’t you glad I’m not sulking around?”

“No,” Alice and Patchouli said in unison. “It just means you’re going to get up to something.”

Instead of denying it, the human just laughed like it was all a normal, funny day out. Sakuya then appeared out of nowhere, handing her a glass of wine which she accepted.

Yes, Marisa felt determined to at least attempt to enjoy herself. She’d avoided most of the people she regularly interacted with, outside of Alice, and was ready to try and behave as she normally would have again. She thought of the pictures in Reimu’s photo album, and how so many of them were of gatherings like this.

“Why are you drinking?” Alice frowned. “Honestly, I didn’t expect you to join in on all that. Doesn’t it feel a little disrespectful?”

Patchouli didn’t back her up because she didn’t particularly care about the optics of this event.

“Isn’t this meant to be a celebration of someone’s life?” Marisa took a sip of wine and leant back in the chair. “No point in sitting around all dour about it. She wouldn’t want you to be sad forever.”

Alice knew that, and what the witch was saying was exactly the point Alice had tried to make to her many weeks ago, but still. How quickly the human had bounced back from attending the funeral to now was frightening, at least to her. Probably because no-one else had born witness to the extreme level of denial and grief she was in. In reality, that most likely had not changed. Alice was witnessing something akin to extreme masking.

Well, if she tried to stop her from drinking and trying to distract herself, she’d only be a hypocrite. She’d done the same not long ago.

Marisa was quickly ambushed by a group of very drunk fairies, all of whom started sobbing uncontrollably once they found her. She was shooed away from Alice and Patchouli’s table since they were making such a terrible racket. It took a good 15 minutes to get them to calm down and leave her alone, where she was suddenly face-to-face with Sanae. While Marisa was feeling a little buzz from the wine she was drinking, Sanae looked perfectly sober.

“Maybe you should consider a career in childcare if magic doesn’t work out,” the Moriya shrine maiden hummed. She was standing up, whereas Marisa was cross-legged on the ground. “That was kind of impressive.”

“I dunno why they like me so much,” Marisa shrugged, feeling a sort of pressure to get this interaction right. “Hey, um. I saw you at the funeral and I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”

“It’s okay,” Sanae wasn’t making eye contact, and her arms were crossed. “I wasn’t even supposed to be there that day, I refused to do the service until the last minute. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you either.”

There was silence between the two for a bit, the noisy party around them serving as background noise. Then, Sanae spoke.

“I hope you know that I do understand how you feel,” she frowned. “But I was only trying to help you and you… snubbed me. My opinion hasn’t changed: I still think that you are too preoccupied with Reimu being alive to properly heal or try and sort out this God situation. I’m worried about you, and I wanted to be your friend in that moment, however it seemed.”

“You aren’t wrong,” Marisa replied. Because she wasn’t. “I was unfair in how I reacted. We were and we both still are hurting, right? So I kind of took out that hurt on you when it wasn’t right to do. I’m really serious when I say I’m sorry about that. And I am too preoccupied. That isn’t going to change.”

“Why?” Sanae looked fit to burst into tears. “Why won’t you accept it and just try and live as she would want you to do?”

“It’s simple,” Marisa hopped to her feet and patted Sanae on the shoulder. “I gotta hear it from her mouth first.”

Sanae, for her part, looked nothing short of utterly bewildered. Then, she laughed. It was true, it all hurt, and they were both in pain. Marisa was stubborn, and if she had an idea, she wouldn’t let it go, no matter what. Sanae hadn’t initiated this conversation in any kind of attempt to change her mind. It was nice, though. Nice to hear her sound like she usually did after their last few meetings. What she had said was crazy, but it suited her just fine.

“I’m still not going to help you in this quest to find a living Reimu,” Sanae shook her head. “But come to me if you have any God related woes. I’ll be here for you in that regard. You know where to find me.”

The shrine maiden smiled and headed off back to the table she had been sitting at. Marisa began idly scanning the garden for any sign of Yuyuko, whom she was desperate to speak to. Eventually, she landed at their table. Youmu and Yuyuko sat, drinking away, with an empty seat presumably for Yukari. Chen was pouring drinks, looking a little worn out. Presumably, wherever Yukari was, so was Ran.

“Miss Black and White is paying us a visit!” Yuyuko all but sung, leaning across the table. “Ah, I feel so special! Hey, hey, let’s have a drinking game! Drinking game!”

“Maybe later,” Marisa laughed. It was probably not a good idea to drink too much, but it was unsurprising that she’d want to have some sort of drinking competition. She was probably bored waiting for Yukari. “I wanted to ask you- “

“I know~” Yuyuko fell backwards, and Youmu rushed to make sure she didn’t fall over. “You’re awfully predictable… I’m disappointed… I wanted to drink like old times…”

Youmu frowned because she apparently had not figured out what the question was.

“What question do you have for milady?” She frowned, clearly not having drunk anywhere near as much as her master.

“It’s about the shrine maiden,” Yuyuko answered for Marisa, and she seemed to look far less drunk than she had. “Are you wondering if she’s in the Netherworld?”

“Ah- yes!” Marisa sat to attention. Yuyuko smirked, amused to have gotten such a reaction. “I was just wondering if you two had seen her there.”

“She’s not in the Netherworld,” the ghost princess had a strange look on her face. “I hope I haven’t disappointed you. I would’ve been informed about it immediately if she had been, and I’m sure I’d have noticed even if I received no such formal announcement. My apologies.”

The magician seemed to deflate.

“Do you not believe us?” Youmu raised an eyebrow. “We have no reason to lie.”

“I think it’s more that she’s disappointed,” Yuyuko replied, at least attempting to look sympathetic whilst drunk out of her mind. “She wanted to go there and see her again. I can’t help you with that, I’m sorry. In fact, I have no idea where she is.”

“I see,” Marisa felt like there was a lead weight on her back. “I’ll excuse myself now. Thanks anyway.”

As she left, Yuyuko called after her begging for another drinking game, but she didn’t look back. Well, it was just a small setback. There was still Hell and Heaven. Marisa found a little maid and swiped one of the bottles of champagne off of her tray and wandered off into an isolated part of the garden, near the rose bushes.

Marisa began chugging it. She wasn’t a fan of wine at all, especially not this kind that was fizzy, but it’d do. It’d have to do. She wasn’t going to hang around at the party waiting for a bottle of sake to appear. That only gave her the chance to be seen by someone, and right now she wasn’t up to that. Knowing her luck, someone would find her anyway. For now, she just sat and drank and tried not to think about anything. No Reimu, no God, no Netherworld. None of it. She emptied her mind as she emptied the bottle, eventually collapsing on the floor of the mansion’s gazebo.

“Marisa?” A tiny voice was calling out to her, and she knew it was the youngest Scarlet. “What are you doing out here?”

Flandre was standing over her, which would be ominous to anyone else. Surely Sakuya was out of her mind with worry about where the girl was, but Flandre was never one to care about any of that. She sat down next to where Marisa was laying, just staring. She liked to do that. Marisa never knew if it was because she was looking for something on people’s faces, or if she was intentionally trying to creep them out. It didn’t bother her. She didn’t find Flandre scary.

“Didn’t wanna sit around in the main garden,” she grumbled. “Why aren’t you there?”

“Noisy,” Flandre shrugged. “Wanted to talk to you.”

Marisa nodded and went back to being stared at without any further comment. If she spoke too much, she’d start to think about the things she was trying to forget about, and it’d ruin the magic she’d cast upon herself.

“My sister has been upset,” Flandre piped up after some time. “Crying a lot. They used to be close. Not as close as you two. She’d come over for tea like how you’d come over to play with me.”

Marisa didn’t say anything.

“Not that I really care how Remilia feels,” Flandre continued. “We barely talk. She’s trying to talk to me more, and this has to be why. I’m not going to go anywhere. I’ll live as long as I have blood. I wish she would leave me alone. I wish…”

“Reimu would come back and turn it all back to normal,” Marisa finished for her. “You’re not the only one.”

“Are you sad?” Flandre asked, and it was innocent.

“Yes.”

“Huh.”

Flandre seemed to be thinking.

“I don’t know if I’m sad,” she admitted. “I don’t like that you’re sad about it though. Maybe I’m sad for you, and not because of her dying.”

“If you’re sad for me then you’re sad,” Marisa shrugged. “You’re sad either way, right? And it’s over the same thing, really.”

“Maybe I’m just sad all the time,” Flandre mused. “So I don’t know how it feels to be sad about death. Maybe I don’t understand. I might be too young.”

Marisa laughed, and laughed, and laughed. She sat up and gave the vampire girl and hug, which she returned in confusion.

“Maybe you are too young,” she giggled. “You’ll understand when you’re a grown-up.”

Flandre didn’t know what she’d said was funny but was happy to have gotten any kind of reaction that was positive. They chatted until Remilia herself rounded the corner, looking stressed.

“Have you been here the whole time?” She panted, like she’d been rushing all over the place. “We’ve been looking for you! I hope my sister hasn’t been harassing you.”

“We were just talking,” Marisa smiled. “I think we should head back though, right?”

Flandre nodded. She sat at the table Marisa had started at, with Patchouli and Alice, and the four of them talked until the party seemed to be ending. Flandre got moody when she was eventually escorted inside by a gaggle of maids, and Sakuya herself stalked over to their table with a gentle smile on her face. She took Patchouli’s hand, and they bid farewell to the two remaining magicians at the table, who nodded to one another. Time to head back home.

The flight was quiet, with Marisa having largely sobered up over the time they’d spent together. After being in what felt like a greenhouse for so long, the cold winter air was quite welcome. Alice stopped her before she headed on to her own house.

“Whatever it is that you’re up to,” she sighed, looking like she was about to sprout several grey hairs. “Be careful. I want no part in any scheme you’ve got going on, but at the very least don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t,” Marisa lied.

Alice didn’t believe her, but she couldn’t do anything regardless. They went their separate ways.

Chapter Text

I’m not sure that this is necessarily a good idea, the God said. Perhaps you should tell someone about your current plan.

“And have ‘em try and stop me?” Marisa scoffed. “No thanks.”

This was a stupid idea, in truth. Marisa was packing her things, ready to head down the Sanzu River, and the God could do nothing more than watch on. If the witch had really stopped to think about this plan, then she’d have quickly realised that there was no way on earth that Reimu would be in Hell, or that she’d still be waiting at Higan. So why was she so determined? Humans did some really pointless things.

“If I head that way, I’ll see the Yama at Higan,” she shrugged. “The trip won’t be totally pointless; I can ask her questions when I arrive.”

The God wanted to tell her that it was useless, but that girl wouldn’t listen. She hadn’t been listening. If Marisa disappeared like she was about to, then it was going to cause chaos in her personal life. Chaos was already bubbling under the surface of every interaction she had with Alice. If she found out where she went, or even that she was missing at all, they’d all think the same thing. They’d think that she was resigning herself to death.

Marisa wasn’t thinking in the same way the God was. This was an incident to be solved and Higan was the key to that. She wasn’t even wrong, the God had to admit. This was an incident, through and through. However the God could not understand why she was choosing to do this instead of what it thought was obvious. She still had not read through Reimu’s diary and seemed reluctant to do so. It couldn’t sway her, and it couldn’t tell her what it wanted to until she did. Instead, she flew off in the direction of Youkai Mountain, and the diary lay unopened on her desk.

Yakumo Yukari laid in bed, sheet draped lazily over her relaxed form, still only half awake. She’d had the same dream again, though that was nothing new. She had been having the same few dreams on a repeating cycle for centuries. The same nightmares too.

To anyone, she would seem like a villain. She had long since come to terms with that. After all, if you’re a youkai, that is kind of the whole deal, right?

Though as it stood right now, she did not view herself even as the antagonist of this incident. There was one main reason for this, and that was that she had not done anything. No, truly there was nothing Yukari had done to the former Hakurei Reimu and she had done nothing that had been different from any other time a shrine maiden had passed. The circumstances were bizarre, and even she was struggling to understand just what it was that happened, but she had not been the perpetrator. Heida no Akyuu clearly thought differently, if her expression was anything to go by after the village meeting. If that was what was to be written in the Chronicle, then so be it. Yukari was long past the point of ever proclaiming a “not guilty” verdict, even if it was the truth. Youkai are supposed to be monsters, right? That is what all of the books say…

She could not lie and say she wasn’t a monster, or at least hadn’t been one at some point in her life. By now, she had lived far too long and had mellowed out of her violent ways, as most youkai had in Gensokyo. Her nightmares seemed to be proof of that.

Ah, but the remnants of that woman still lived on in the land she helped create. The remnants of a true monster. The terrible situation with the Hakurei girls was but one of many terrible things that, if Yukari and her cohorts had not been so blinded by youth and the belief they’d achieved true wisdom, may not have had to come to pass. There would’ve been no need for a roulette wheel, no need for the God and no need to have done what she did.

She was too old, and the magic of time-travel was far too flimsy and unreliable to try and resolve it all. When you are old and you have been given too much time to think, you tend not to focus on the good things you did, but rather the bad. Yukari’s dreams were filled of memories of a girl who lived once, a woman who battled fiercely, and a physicist-

Well, she supposed that life was just like that. You have dreams about the people and things you have lost. Yukari, if she were to be honest, lost herself 3 times. Whoever she was right now was not the girl that lived so long ago, nor the woman who fought so many battles and certainly not the mastermind behind Gensokyo’s inception…

If that girl knew, it would all be easy, but humans can only know so much before they become something not natural. If there was one thing that would’ve hurt Hakurei Reimu, it would’ve been knowing that the girl she wanted to live a human life so desperately had become something other than that. Yukari had a duty to every Hakurei maiden that had crossed her path. So, the intricacies of the situation were not for Kirisame Marisa to know. At least, not right now. Yukari couldn’t stop her from discovering them on her own.

Ah, but what was she going to do? This could not last forever, the God would have to go back to the Shrine whether or not that was really what it wanted. To have allowed this to go on for as long, Yukari felt like she was hitting a new level of idiocy that hadn’t been seen before. If this were to go on for too much longer, something horrible was about to happen. And yet, she felt like everyone had that coming. Maybe she’d just let that horrible thing happen and try and salvage what she could afterwards.

If Marisa could figure it out or get someone to give her something that resembled an answer, then that wouldn’t happen. Therefore, stepping in herself was not a requirement. Which was good, because Yukari had been rather tired lately. So, she laid in bed, and dreamt of nothing in particular this time.

Gensokyo is a paradise. The land is vibrant, magic runs through it as easily as water and life is easy. No-one is sad for long in Gensokyo.

Maybe. Maybe that is the case for some. But not for all.

Hakurei Reimu had always been acutely aware that, at the end of the day, though she was the protector of this paradise, it wasn’t hers. In fact, it was not for any humans at all. This place was made without human being’s best interests in mind. It is a paradise for youkai and gods. Humans were an afterthought. An important presence left as a footnote to spell card duels and the creation of the border world.

Reimu didn’t mind this. At least, she didn’t mind it at first. She wasn’t given the same privileges that a human born in the village would have been, like a formal education or a community of people to rely on. In fact, she might as well have been something else entirely. Though she was powerful, and she was able to stand up against even some of the mightiest enemies, it changed nothing about the state of the world in which she lived. There was no point in arguing, no point in really fighting over it. The system had been in place for centuries, long before she was born. She was hardly the first nor would she be the last to take issue with it.

She didn’t hate youkai, though maybe she acted like she did. In truth, she felt like the youkai she’d been made study in books were too far removed from the way they were in Gensokyo to actually feel any kind of hatred for them. They were annoying and caused her a few headaches and sometimes put the Barrier in danger, but that was not really horrifying in the grander scheme of things. This was how she thought for much of her life.

However there were times where she really did hate youkai.

She must have been young, though she could not recall the age she was even if she tried, when it happened for the first time. An ear-piercing shriek that resounded from the village, the frantic hands of Yukari shaking her awake and the sleep barely being blinked out of her eyes as she gazed in horror at what was once the owner of a beautiful hairpin stall. Reimu had seen her a few days prior. She could never afford such a thing herself, but she liked to walk past whenever she was in the village. In particular, there was a gorgeous purple wisteria kanzashi that she had been eyeing that day. It was like a comb. Yes, it was a comb. A flower comb. Reimu hadn’t ever worn one before, and she wondered if she would suit it. She liked to have some of her hair tied up, and so she wondered if a comb would’ve looked nice.

Youkai don’t leave bodies when they die, but Reimu already knew that. Nothing but a clump of clothes lay on the ground where once the hairpin lady had stood. Even so, she felt a huge sense of relief upon seeing that there was no corpse left behind. A little boy was wailing and there was a man who looked like he was about to start throwing things at her. Yukari patted her on the shoulder, but Reimu couldn’t even recall what it was that she’d done. At least, she couldn’t at the time.

It was easier to try and forget those sorts of things. It doesn’t “fit in” with Gensokyo. She shrugged Yukari’s hand off of her shoulder and walked back to the shrine.

Reimu found that she did hate youkai, but in a very particular way. She hated them because their powers were always going to cause some poor, idiotic human to fall prey to their base desires and become something unthinkable. She hated them because when that happened, she would have to do something about it.

She wasn’t supposed to hate, not really. In fact, if she really thought about it, there was hardly anything she was “supposed” to feel. As a miko, really all you have to worry about is surviving. Unless you get into a relationship, at which point your main goal is either to produce a new shrine maiden or leave the shrine entirely. It doesn’t stop the ticking time bomb on your head, but it relieves you of your duty far quicker than you would have otherwise.

Reimu would’ve been a liar if she claimed to never have thought about leaving. It wasn’t like you were truly held hostage by the God nor Yukari. If she’d wanted to leave, she could have very well done so if she’d given her notice. She had thought of it plenty of times and more specifically after her mother passed. But then that girl was always at the shrine, and then she’d made so many friends all of a sudden after all of the incidents she’d solved, and she was at tea parties and festivals, and everything was so wonderful. If she left, would that stop? Would that girl stop caring about her? If she was a normal, grouchy, airheaded not shrine maiden, would Marisa still visit her? Would she be welcome at the Scarlet Devil Mansion for tea like she had always been? Would Yukari forget about her? Would Kourin still design her clothes with the same care he sewed Marisa’s?

It was silly to think that way, but she couldn’t help it.

“Have you ever thought about giving up magic?” Reimu asked. She had been laying on the porch that particular night with Marisa who, as usual, was showing no signs of wanting to go home. They’d been drinking a little, so her speech was rather slurred, but her mental faculties were still running fine. It was the height of summer, so this was just par for the course for the two of them.

Marisa seemed quite taken aback. They had just been wrestling over the last manju a few minutes ago and they were trying to catch their breath. The question came out of seemingly nowhere. Reimu was expressionless, and so the blonde couldn’t get a good read on how to respond. So she went for the truth.

“Once or twice,” she had replied. She had also been laying on the porch, but she had shot up as she spoke, like answering honestly had sobered her up. Reimu was still on the floor. Nervously, she laughed. “Well, eh, I haven’t thought like that for a while. Hey, but is this really the time to ask that? C’mon you’re ruinin’ the mood a little.”

“I just wanted to know,” Reimu shrugged and sat up on her elbows, and pouted a little. “Can’t I ask my magician a question?”

“Oi! Who said I was your magician?” Marisa leant over and pinched her cheek. Reimu’s seriousness faltered, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “I am not on payroll.”

When Marisa pulled back, she looked a bit conflicted. Then, she spoke again.

“Sometimes I think it’d be better to give up,” Marisa shrugged. “It’s just like that though, right? You get stuck on something, and you think ‘aw man, screw this!’ and want to walk away from it. That’s how it is for me. I get frustrated and I storm off, but I always storm right back in. If I gave up every time something didn’t go right for me, I’d be nowhere in my studies at all.”

“…You know that one day you’re going to hit a wall in your magical ability, don’t you?” Reimu asked, and Marisa froze. “Someday you will hit a point where you have nowhere else to go but where I know you wouldn’t. I-I’m not trying to scare you. I guess what I’m actually asking is would you keep going even when you knew you wouldn’t get anywhere?”

Marisa frowned, like she really hadn’t wanted to discuss this. She hadn’t. Reimu was aware she was only here to drink and chat and play around. But she couldn’t get it out of her head, and she had to ask.

“I would,” Marisa said. “Even if it meant nothing and even if it didn’t change anything. Magic is the only real thing I’ve ever wanted and if I hit a wall, I could never stop practicing.”

“Even if that determination turned you into a youkai?”

“…Is there something you’re trying to get at?”

Marisa had gotten cagey and defensive, and that was when Reimu knew she’d went a bit too far. She was side-eyeing her and Reimu stiffened up, pushing off of the floor with her arms and sitting up straight.

“Sometimes the way you talk about your studies worries me,” Reimu admitted, playing with the hem of her skirt nervously. “I know you wouldn’t ever become a magician willingly, but many magicians are born out of a one-track desire for something.”

It was quiet. And then she heard a mumble that she couldn’t quite make out. Reimu asked her to repeat it, at which point the girl next to her spun around.

“If I became a youkai, would you stop looking at me?”

Marisa looked a little red, but they’d been drinking. It couldn’t mean anything. Reimu wouldn’t let it mean anything. It’d ruin the illusion she’d worked so tirelessly to protect.

If Marisa became a youkai, would Reimu stop looking at her? The answer was an obvious one to both of them, though for quite different reasons. Yes, Reimu would. She would probably never look at her again.

It was probably wrong to place a crook like Kirisame Marisa on a pedestal like Reimu had frequently throughout her life. It wasn’t even like she viewed her as a person of high moral calibre because that was quite provably false. But there was one thing that Reimu always found true of her, and that was her humanity. Though she teased and scolded and nagged about studying magic from time to time, she had no fear that Marisa would ever become a youkai magician. She knew her well enough over the years to determine that if Marisa had truly wanted to be a youkai magician, she’d have been one by now.

The question Marisa asked was a lot deeper for Reimu than just “would you stop being friends with me?” because Reimu knew what she would have to do if Marisa ever did become a youkai magician. Whether or not she lived in the Forest, she was a human from the village. In a practical sense, she would stop looking at her forever.

“Yes,” Reimu answered because it was useless to lie.

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Marisa shrugged.

…

As a shrine maiden, what even was she? It was a question she was always asking herself.

Marisa had always been a human girl in the village. She had snuck around stealing grimoires and then ran away to become a magician under the care of a (crazy) vengeful spirit. She grew up surrounded by humans, without any affinity for any kind of spiritual or magical power. There had been nothing special about her. She’d trained to be able to do anything.

Reimu was envious, truth be told. It was easier to laugh at her efforts and to tease her, because not only did it elicit a fun reaction, but it only served as fuel to her never-ending fire. None of that was how she really felt. As a Hakurei, she was given power from birth and had been taught how to use it without any real time for play during her early years. She had little to no contact with anyone outside of her mother and then Yukari, and training did not improve her powers much at all. Her God was unresponsive and her Shrine grounds were empty, so there wasn’t even any motivation external to the allure of power to attempt to train up. She was a shell of a miko.

Reimu was jealous because Marisa knew what she was. Hakurei women were supposed to know what they were, and she supposed she sort of did. But whatever it was that she felt like, it wasn’t human. Maybe that was why she hated youkai. Reimu can’t play in the village because she is a Hakurei. Reimu can’t live in the village because she is a Hakurei. Reimu can’t grow old because she is a Hakurei.

She felt like she had to prove that she wasn’t one of them, despite being appointed her position because of one. Through battle, through incident solving, through aiding the village- whatever form it took. Youkai extermination set the boundary, placed a barrier between Hakurei and youkai. The line would not blur.

That was why she was glad that Marisa hunted youkai too. It was proof she was not one.

Marisa slept over that night, as she often did. They spent the rest of their night ignoring the entire exchange, and they fell asleep on opposite sides of Reimu’s room. When Reimu woke up, the witch was gone.

She was just cleaning the storage room (dust was building up and it was going to be even more of a pain if she left it to get worse) when she found them. There were piles and piles of books tucked behind a few loose slats of wood she hadn’t noticed before. They were older than any other book she had, and that was saying something considering the diaries she owned. Reimu abandoned the cleaning task and hurried into the shrine with the books in her arms, desperate to see them in better lighting.

Whatever they were, they were really old. She’d thought that already but seeing them out in the open just confirmed how ancient they were. They far exceeded the age of the oldest diary she was left with. Carefully, she dusted off the cover of the topmost one, and read it. Well, attempted to. The ink was so old and faded it was illegible. Instead, she opened it.

This was a diary, like all of the other ones in the shrine. The style of writing was dated, so Reimu knew that this was from very early in the shrine’s lifetime. It was the writings of what was presumably the first Hakurei Shrine Maiden. Her name had been scribbled out each time it was written, which was concerning. Reimu almost doubted the legitimacy of the text because of it but was scared that if she asked Yukari if that was the case, she’d never get a chance to read these books again. So she did nothing, and simply read.

The miko wrote about a bustling shrine and a happy God (whose name had also been hastily scribbled out), one who frequently communicated and shared wisdom with the (multiple) maidens at the shrine. She spoke of her mother and father who helped tend to the business of the shrine, and of an older brother who attended a school nearby. It appeared to be written not from within Gensokyo, but the Outside World. Reimu felt nervous. This must have been some time ago.

Most of it was like many of the diaries she’d read prior: a brief description of a ritual, light details about the woman’s family and her daily life and always ended on a prayer. But it changed rather abruptly halfway through. It lost the structure of a traditional diary entry with dates and a “dear diary” written within it and became much more off the cuff. If Reimu could describe it in any particular way, it appeared like the ramblings of someone who was secretly terrified.

The God had begun to act strangely, or so she wrote, and as a result the younger Shrine Maidens had become restless and had started to become belligerent. She wrote about how she found it hard to control them, to get them to calm their words in the temple of their God, but it didn’t work. Eventually, the only maiden left was her, as the rest had quit upon hearing about the plan it had concocted.

“I’d like to have left with them in all honesty,” the girl had written, in a lopsided, rushed script. “I believe in my God, and I want to believe that it knows what is best for all of us- but to listen to that blonde woman… I’m not sure on so many things now.”

Soon after, she wrote of her brother being pulled from his schooling. Reimu felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of her neck. What was all of this? That blonde woman had to be Yukari, right?

Instinctually, she spun around where she sat. No-one was there. No noise had been made. There wasn’t even a hint of Reimu’s 6^th sense for youkai going off. It was fine. She was fine. No-one was there. Reimu was okay. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to continue reading.

The woman she had decided was Yukari eventually became a frequent visitor to the Shrine, preparing arcane rituals, all of which culminated in a very short entry from the miko that only said, “we left.”

Her brother had been left behind with his mother. They were to stay in the Outside World and take care of the Shrine there, whilst she and her father took care of the Hakurei Shrine in Gensokyo. It sounded simple, but the girls writing only got more and more frantic. Her God had no name, she had no idea of its powers, and though it tried to calm her and her father down, it didn’t have the answers to those questions either. Frustrated, the miko wrote of how badly she wished to be anywhere, anywhere but this place. That she saw youkai wherever she turned, that she woke up in the night fearing she’d be eaten alive-

Reimu noticed the handwriting changed entirely after that. Whoever this new diary belonged to; it was a different girl. Things were calm, at least for this miko. Her writings detailed a marriage and a daughter being born, the many trivialities of life at the Shrine and she had clearly adjusted much better to Gensokyo than the last girl. Perhaps she had been born here? The God was still quite powerful, so youkai were unable to reach the shrine grounds which the maiden had mentioned specifically because of the nature of the last miko’s entry. Still though, misfortune followed. Just as visitors to the Shrine were dwindling on the Outside, they began to dwindle in numbers in Gensokyo. Her God became depressed and withdrawn from her. Just as she was getting the hang of the whole religious business, her father fell ill and died. No-one had any idea what happened to him, but it was supposedly a nasty virus that had just ravaged his body. The miko had no idea if that was the truth or not, and simply chose to believe it was for her own good. She wrote about coming down with the same symptoms soon after, and how scared she was for her daughter. Then it stopped… which was strange. She recovered. The virus just stopped. Whatever it was that killed her father stopped with her. That wasn’t true. Reimu knew it wasn’t true, because she knew the story of that particular girl. She died because of that disease. It had been spoken about in many different accounts from the Maidens who came after her, and so Reimu knew the story. She’d never found that particular girl’s diary though, and supposedly this was it. It was almost as though this particular diary had been fabricated, or at least doctored somehow. She frowned.

Reimu looked at the pile of diaries she’d just read through, and then to the only one she hadn’t skimmed. It looked less like a diary, and more like an official printing, but she couldn’t be sure. There wasn’t even any unintelligible text to go off of on the front.

Whoever had written this had a much fancier style of handwriting than the previous writers, and Reimu actually found it a little tough to read. Inside it were details of an agreement with the (here the name was scribbled out roughly as it had been prior) God of the Hakurei Shrine and the Sages. The text was rather long, and it contained nothing that Reimu wasn’t already aware of.

How anti-climactic. She decided to skim through the rest of the pages until a word caught her eye- and it soon did. What seemed to be an additional clause of the agreement had been added hastily on a page near the end of the book. It was barely anything really, and again it was something that Reimu already knew, but it was strange to see it as an addition. Why was this added so late on?

It was a simple thing, but it made her feel queasy. With a rough idea in mind, she closed the book, gathered up the pile and lifted up a floorboard in her bedroom. She knew that girl went into the storeroom frequently to mooch food, and she didn’t want her to snoop around and find these books. Once she had hidden them, she pulled on her shoes and flew out of the Shrine.

The air against her skin as she made her journey helped calm her down, at least a little.

Chapter Text

Yukari knew a lot of fancy words and phrases that Reimu had never been able to parse, so when she’d heard the word “non-Euclidean” she had totally ignored it. She had no idea what it meant, only that it was the only way to describe the phenomenon she was experiencing right now.

She knew, because she had been told, that the Shrine was where the barrier was. Even when she was younger, it didn’t make all that much sense. Wouldn’t the Shrine be split in half somehow? Now as an adult, she recognised that it was more from the Shrine that the barrier extended. She’d messed around with it enough to be sure of such a thing. She wasn’t much of an outside-world magic person, so she never really tried doing the fun experiment of running or flying as far away from the back of the shrine as she could. Until now.

She flew in one direction, as fast as she could, until she got tired. It had been at least 15 minutes. The landscape around her moved, but it looked repetitious. She should’ve been a good distance from the back of the Shrine, so why was it that when she turned back, it was still easily within her range of vision?

It didn’t make sense, which made sense for Gensokyo. Reimu turned away from the Shrine once more and reached out into the empty space before her. It was a colourful, picturesque vista. One she could imagine hanging on someone’s wall, or a painter sitting somewhere nearby her to capture that beautiful moment. She reached out, but not to grasp hold of that scenery, rather to grasp hold of something else.

Her eyes closed, and she focused. If she could feel it, if it really was there, then maybe-

It was. It was there, right there in front of her. There were no words to describe how it felt to touch, but it wasn’t a sensation that could be referred to as “touch” either. No, it was the sensation of knowing. She’d placed her hand, however briefly, on the barrier.

She had messed around with it her entire life, and had been encouraged to do so, but she had never really tried touching it. It always felt like it some something impossible to touch, like a horizon or the stars in the sky. But here she was, the tips of her fingers resting gently against it as she focused and listened.

It couldn’t have lasted for more than a second before she yelped and pulled her hand back. She knew it was the barrier, because it told her. She knew, now, what that meant. She knew, because it helped her “know”.

Unsteadily, she landed on the ground and walked back to the Shrine. Somehow, the sun was setting. She kicked her shoes off before she entered, pulled out her ribbon and began to gather things to have a bath. There was nothing else to do. She had been so single minded in this desire that she had not noticed the dumbfounded magician standing in the corner of the room.

“…What are you doing?” Was all she could really manage to say, because Reimu was now equally as dumbfounded to have gotten herself into this situation. “Why are you here?”

Mouth hanging open, Marisa blinked several times and came back to her senses.

“I was looking for you,” she pointed at the girl in front of her. “Look, I’ve got stuff cooking in the kitchen for us both too- “

“I’m not in the mood right now Marisa,” Reimu snapped. She really hadn’t wanted to come across her today, especially not after what had just happened outside. “Take what you’ve cooked and go home. I need a bath.”

She didn’t stop to see the reaction, but she heard her call her name as she sped into the washroom. This was stupid. Reimu undressed and started scrubbing away, trying to wash away what she’d learnt, and then sunk herself down in the bath and tried to focus on the water and nothing else. Of course, she knew well enough by now that Marisa would not leave the Shrine. In fact, even as she tried to focus her attention on the bath water, she could hear her footsteps busy themselves around the Shrine. She muttered away to herself, shut doors noisily in frustration and eventually, stormed into the room.

“Where have you been?!” She yelled, and it made Reimu flinch deeper into the bathwater. They’d taken plenty of baths together before, so this wasn’t embarrassing at all really, but this was the last place that Reimu really wanted to have a confrontation. “Tried lookin’ for you, since your stuff was all here. You weren’t around the Shrine so I figured you were just busy with something. I wouldn’t even care if you showed up here late, but you snapped at me just now and you hobbled in looking like shit!”

Well, Reimu didn’t think she hobbled in, but it was probably a bad idea to point that out. She was around the Shrine though, so that part made no sense.

“I did not hobble in,” Reimu huffed. She didn’t know if she looked like shit or not, since she hadn’t looked in a mirror since the morning. “And can you get out? I’m in the bath.”

“You tripped 3 times over your own feet and nearly bumped into me twice and still had no idea that I was in the room,” Marisa crossed her arms. “And no, I’m not getting out until you say sorry.”

“But I have nothing to be sorry about,” the miko rebutted, sinking into the bathwater. “So I won’t say it. Just leave.”

Marisa looked at her, and she stared back. It was like she was looking for something, and it seemed like she was not finding it. Her brows furrowed, and she gave a frustrated growl before stomping away from the washroom, door slamming behind her. Reimu felt a little bad.

Reimu soaked a little longer until she felt ready to face the girl that had somewhat ruined her bathtime. She pulled on her nightclothes and towelled off her hair before stalking awkwardly into the main area of the Shrine. The table was laid out a few weeks ago since the weather had gotten much better recently, so the kotatsu was nowhere to be seen. Sitting there, with a face like thunder, was Marisa. She was picking at the dishes she’d made and was absolutely avoiding eye contact. Still, she had set a place for Reimu at the table, and she sat down with no complaint.

They ate in a stony silence. It was nice to eat food that someone else had made, but when that person was glaring daggers at you across the table occasionally, it rather soured the experience. Marisa finished before her, and she made no move to begin washing the dishes. She opened a book she’d brought with her and continued to ignore the other girl’s presence.

“Okay,” Reimu sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ve had a long day and I’m grouchy. I shouldn’t have gotten short with you.”

“Uh-huh,” Marisa did not look up from her book. Reimu felt a pang of irritation.

After a beat, she closed the book and finally made eye-contact.

“Is something going on?” Was all she said. “This just isn’t like you, so is there an incident happening?”

“No,” Reimu replied. She wasn’t sure what else to say, because she was sure that there wasn’t an incident happening. At least, not an incident that was new. She scratched at her head, feeling sheepish. “Yukari’s been yapping my ear off about doing training so I spent all day practicing my barrier manipulation skills. I’m just totally spent.”

It wasn’t necessarily a lie, so she didn’t feel too bad about saying it. Marisa seemed to buy into it well enough. She laughed and started making fun of her for having a horrible work ethic. Reimu played along good-naturedly, just glad to have gotten out of what could have been a difficult argument. It was all back to normal, like it should be. Reimu finished her food and carried the dishes into the kitchen and Marisa trailed after her, offering to dry them.

“I thought you had been in a fight or something,” Marisa explained, as she put away the last of the bowls. “The way you looked and how you acted when you came in, I dunno. Looked like you’d been in a hell of a scrap. I just wanted to know if there was someone we had to have words with.”

“Really?” She was surprised. She hadn’t thought she was so roughed up. All she had done was fly a little faster than normal and then touched something that she wasn’t really sure if she should’ve touched. None of that really screamed brawl to her. “I didn’t feel like I was acting any different when I came in.”

“Well you weren’t watching yourself,” Marisa grinned, poking her on the forehead. “Super weird. I almost thought you were drunk when you were staggering around, but it just didn’t make sense.”

Reimu flushed, “I have plenty of people I could go drinking with other than you! But no, I haven’t been drinking. Guess I was too preoccupied with my thoughts.”

It was dark outside now, and it occurred to Reimu that she probably hadn’t been gone for a mere moment like she’d assumed. To her, it might have been a sensation that lasted only a second, but she was missing a good 5 hours out of her day considering it had been the afternoon when she began her test. She was absolutely the wrong person to be placed in this conundrum. If it had been that girl, she’d have conducted a billion other tests by now. She’d know what to do, and how to fix this. Maybe she’d even know how to forget.

Said girl had seen her lose herself in her thoughts again and grabbed her hands. Marisa was almost a head shorter than Reimu, so she was standing on her toes to get as close to her face as possible.

“Let’s get drunk then!” She hummed, before dropping Reimu’s hands and hurrying out of the house to get the sake from the storeroom. Reimu couldn’t even stop her, since she moved so fast. What was it with small people and speed?

They sat and drank together. Reimu wasn’t really feeling it, but after her outburst earlier she felt like it was probably better to just enjoy her time and distract with something she liked. Marisa was animatedly explaining an interaction she’d had with Alice earlier that day, complete with sound effects that almost definitely did not occur in reality. Whatever she’d pulled out of storage was the most tasteless, bland alcohol Reimu had, so there was nothing else to enjoy but her company. Which was nice, though she didn’t want to admit it.

Whenever Marisa was telling a story, her eyes lit up like stars. However nonsensical, however untrue whatever it was she was actually saying was, her eyes screamed a kind of honesty you could only get from someone who was truly passionate about their speech. She’d swish around, making grand gestures and doing different, exaggerated voices that Reimu loved. She wondered if this was anything close to theatre, but maybe this was better. Occasionally, Reimu would pipe up with a question or an anecdote of her own, and immediately there would be a huge follow-up story. She never seemed to run out of trivial things to make magical. Reimu supposed this was a skill that only a magician could possess.

“Ugh,” she groaned, rolling her neck to get rid of a pain that had been building up as she sat. “I’m thinking about getting my hair cut soon. It’s fine when it’s long but I always end up tying it back anyways ‘cos of the heat.”

“I feel like you’ve been keeping it longer more than usual lately,” Marisa poured herself another drink. “Mine’s way longer than I like it to be. Once it gets past my midback I wanna call it quits.”

“I always think you look a little silly with it cut short,” Reimu smirked as she heard an irritated gasp from the girl across from her. “What? You always cut it short but leave that one section way too long so you can keep a braid in it! You’re lopsided.”

“I do not do that all the time!” Marisa slammed a fist down on the table. “I don’t even put it in the braid sometimes! Sometimes I just have it kind of long.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” Reimu laughed. “You must be drunk if you’re going to be so sensitive. I wish I was doing something fun like that with my hair. I’m a little jealous.”

“Of my frizzy head? Get real. Everyone wants to have beautiful, shiny, straight black hair. If I don’t do something unique with mine, it’ll just turn into birds’ nest.”

Reimu actually snorted when she said that and blushed in embarrassment on account of what had just been said and that she had just made that horrible noise. Maybe she was more drunk than she thought. Marisa immediately burst into a fit of giggles.

“T-there is no way you think my hair looks nice!” Reimu couldn’t help but stutter, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “It is not beautiful and shiny, it’s dull. One look at that moon princess and I look like a wet rag in comparison.”

“I don’t see any moon princesses in the room with us,” the magician had barely recovered from her bout of laughter. “Come on, you look good. Well… whenever you don’t walk in like you’ve been through a warzone. Earlier you definitely looked awful.”

“Thanks,” Reimu rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t get rid of the heat spreading across her face. “You know, I never learnt how to braid. Never saw the appeal, I think I’d look weird.”

“What? It’s easy to learn.”

Reimu went quiet, swishing around the mid-grade sake in her cup. Then, she sat up straight, eyes wide with excitement.

“I know! You braid my hair and I’ll put my hair tubes in yours!”

“You’re drunk,” Marisa coughed. “And how is me braiding your hair gonna help you learn?”

“Well I don’t wanna learn if I look stupid,” Reimu pouted, taking a sip from her cup. “So you do it. And if I look stupid I won’t have to learn. Simple.”

“And when am I ever gonna wear hair tubes?”

“Tonight! Hurry, hurry!”

She dragged the magician into her bedroom, where she dug around for her comb and a few of her spare tubes. Then, they sat across from each other as Reimu fiddled with the other girl’s hair. Marisa, genuinely, looked mortified as Reimu parted and gathered up the hair to put into the accessories she’d grabbed.

“This is what I mean by your hair being lopsided,” she tutted. “The hair on your right is way shorter than the strand at your left. Why don’t you grow it out?”

“I’m not even gonna give you an answer to that.”

Eventually, with enough fixing and fiddling around, Reimu seemed satisfied and moved further back, holding up the mirror for Marisa to look in. Yeah, the hair was indeed lopsided. The hair at the front was nowhere near symmetrical in length and so Reimu had pulled forward a lot of hair to get it to look even slightly even. It looked weird, but the hair being uneven was not why Marisa looked weird. It was just so strange to see her wear something of Reimu’s.

“…I look so weird,” Marisa confirmed, looking embarrassed. “I guess it’s even weirder without my hat, huh.”

“You don’t look bad,” Reimu shrugged. “Just different. Hey, let’s dress you up as well!”

“You’re super drunk!” Marisa went red, shoving her a little. It did nothing but make her laugh. “I mean… it looks fine enough yeah. When I was a kid we had all kinds of hair decorations around the house.”

“Oh?” She must’ve been drunk if she was willing to mention that, so Reimu decided to start tidying her drawers. “Those and the ribbon I have are the only ones I own.”

“Nowadays I just have my hat and a bow to be honest,” Marisa hummed, and Reimu saw that she was messing with the tubes as she was talking. “Some of the ones they sell in the village are crazy. I’d never wear ‘em though. They look heavy and impractical.”

“Your hat has to be impractical,” Reimu smirked. “You must put pins in it to stop it flying off.”

“It’s all about style,” the magician shrugged. “I wanna look the part, right? That’s half of the battle. Wonder if that’s why the ladies in the village buy those hairpieces. So they look like elegant ladies, and then they’ll feel more like elegant ladies.”

“I don’t want to listen to your hair piece philosophy,” Reimu frowned. “Isn’t it your turn to do my hair? C’mon…”

“Fine, fine. Get over here. Aren’t you gonna hand me the comb?”

This was fun, Reimu had decided. Maybe it was the alcohol in her system that was making everything seem much more enjoyable, but this was not something she’d ever done before. There weren’t any kids who liked to play around the Shrine, so she’d never played hairdresser. She closed her eyes as the comb weaved through her hair and Marisa parted it. Come to think of it, their hair really was different in every regard. Reimu did have straight hair that tended not to get into knots very easily (though calling it silky was too far), and it was a colour sort of between brown and black. Marisa’s hair was a very bright blonde and was fluffy and full of tangles. She’d had straight enough hair at one time in her life, because Reimu knew her during that time, but it gradually just got wavier and curled up over the course of knowing one another. It was probably a side-effect of the potions she concocted in her study. Reimu highly doubted she brushed it as often as she should be.

“I’m honestly surprised you don’t have any fancy hairpieces,” Marisa said. “Like, no-ones given them in as a donation, even years and years ago.”

“I was offered one once,” Reimu didn’t open her eyes. “I didn’t accept it. I took it back when I saw it in the donation box.”

“Ha! Doesn’t sound like you.”

“What would I do with a hairpiece? I’ve got no-one to impress and no-where to go. Besides, the family had just experienced a death so it felt like they needed the money they could’ve gotten from selling it more than I needed an accessory.”

“Oh, I see. That makes sense. Well, you’re plenty impressive without even trying. You don’t need something fancy to prove that.”

“Didn’t I just say I had no-one to impress?”

“Oh, you're right. My bad. I’m done though, so take a look.”

Reimu spun around, resolutely avoiding eye-contact and took a look in the mirror. Two equal length braids sat on either side of her face, and she turned to Marisa with a scowl.

“I look like Sakuya,” she moaned. “Why did you braid both sides? That isn’t how you do your hair.”

“Hey now,” she held her hands up in self-defence. “I just thought that’d be how you’d want it. Y’know, cos you put those bits of hair into the tubes anyway. Do you not like it?”

Well, Reimu didn’t say that. Again, it was an issue of just not being used to it. It looked unusual, and not quite like her. It wasn’t bad, it was just something different.

“I… just look weird,” she shrugged. “I don’t mind it though. I think I’ll just stick to my tubes. Maybe this would look better if my hair were a bit shorter?”

Marisa nodded along, passing back the comb and muttering something about booze, but Reimu grabbed her hand.

“You don’t want more sake?”

“Well… yes I do but… I wanna practice braiding. Come and sit with your back to me and let me try.”

“…So I was just wondering if I could take a peek at the Chronicle for a bit?” Reimu finished, trying not to seem too out of place in such a fancy study. She hadn’t gotten used to sitting in such a lavish environment. She almost wondered if she was dirtying it up by wearing her outside clothes. “It’ll only take a moment or two, I’m only here to look something up.”

Akyuu had never refused her before, and she’d come by for extremely minor things plenty of times. There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for her to be asking to check it. A servant shuffled in and handed Reimu a cup of tea, which she confusedly accepted.

“Of course you can take a look,” Akyuu nodded, smiling gently. “I hope whatever it is that you’re looking for you can find.”

It would have been a totally wasted journey if Reimu hadn’t known what she did. It was written down in the Chronicle too. She thanked Akyuu for her time and wished her well, apologised for barely touching the (extremely expensive) tea she had been brought, and headed off to her next port of call.

The Shrine was empty, as usual, without so much as a soul in sight. Genjii lounged in his pond as usual, side-eyeing her as she walked into the main sanctuary. There, Reimu sat down, cleared her head, and prayed. Though it had only spoken to her once, and was unlikely to do so again, Reimu couldn’t help but try. If anyone could tell her anything, or at least confirm something to her, it was the Hakurei God.

She prayed and chanted for hours; it was somewhere past midnight by the time she finally stopped out of sheer exhaustion. Her throat was dry and she hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning, so she stalked into the kitchen and boiled some rice and chugged as much water as she could without being sick. Soon after she collapsed onto her futon fully clothed, ready to begin pushing the boulder up the hill again.

She repeated this, as often as she could without drawing suspicion, for 2 weeks. There was still no reply, not even a hint of acknowledgement of her pleas. Reimu pushed up from the floor she’d sat on for several hours and peered out of the Shrine to watch the sun rise. She’d get a nap in for an hour or two in a bit, but it was nice to just watch the world go by.

“Maybe my prayers won’t reach you,” she spoke into the empty air. “Maybe none of our prayers can reach you. This might have been a fruitless venture all along, so I’ll speak plainly now. I want to ask you a question, and I know that you’re there. If you help me, I’ll do what I can for all of us. I have an idea, but I need your assistance to make it possible. If you understand, please answer me the next time I call upon you.”

There was no acknowledgement, but she hadn’t asked for it now. She believed, because she was nothing if not hopeful, that it would answer her the next time she sat down to pray. Again, she punctuated the end of her prayers and the end of a fortnight of faith by dragging her feet into her bedroom and planting herself face first into her futon.

When she awoke, the first thing she did was clap her hands together and begin a prayer- and the unthinkable happened. It spoke. It sounded as old and as ancient and as worn out as it had the first time it had spoken to her. This time, Reimu would not scream. And so, the Hakurei Shrine Maiden and the Hakurei God communed.

Chapter Text

The trip to Youkai Mountain had been way too quiet, with the God saying nothing and Marisa not coming across a single individual she knew. The air felt prickly with electricity, so why was nothing happening? If she thought about it too hard, she’d turn around, and that wouldn’t do. So she flew onwards, ignoring the feeling deep within her gut that she should stop where she was and go back to her house. Though the Road was closer at this point in the journey, but her house wasn’t that far.

As she finally arrived on Youkai Mountain, she felt a bit queasy. The walk to the Road was eerie, like everyone was holed up in their houses or hiding in the brush. As she continued her pace, a familiar figure came into view, and it seemed to be waiting for her. After a little bit, she was close enough to see who it was. Hijiri Byakuren stood, smiling absentmindedly, waving a hand as Marisa drew near. Her heart throbbed faster. This made it all the weirder. What was she doing here?

“Good morning magician,” her voice always sounded like a bell was ringing within her soul. Sometimes it rung with joy, and other times it was more sombre. Marisa couldn’t tell what her tone was right now. “It’s rare to see you by the Mountain these days. It has been a while since we crossed paths.”

Right- come to think of it, she hadn’t attended the party at the Devil’s. Well, it only made sense given her religion, Marisa supposed. She’d not thought about visiting the Temple, because she had no reason to believe that any of the people there would be able to help her. Now, she wondered if Byakuren had been waiting for an opportunity to catch her, and this was just the only time. Which, in itself, was strange. Why would she be on the Mountain? Did she happen to know Marisa would be here?

“I’ve had a lot goin’ on lately,” Marisa shrugged, attempting to look nonchalant. Hijiri’s eyes narrowed slightly at her words, which suddenly made concocting a convincing lie very difficult. “Just out for a stroll. It’s pretty chilly up here.”

“You’re not exactly dressed for the weather,” the nun replied. Marisa looked down and noticed that she wasn’t. She’d pulled on one of her summer outfits without even thinking about it. It hadn’t crossed her mind how cold she was. Her arms were covered in goosebumps. “Here, take this. You are in greater need of it than I.”

Hijiri pulled off one of the layers she was wearing, which was just a simple black haori, and placed it in the magician’s arms. Marisa then realised this was not a gift she could reject, just by the smile on Byakuren’s face, and put it on. It wasn’t much, but it at least covered more of her arms. Satisfied, Byakuren took a step back.

“You’ve travelled an awfully large distance for a stroll,” she hummed, hands folded delicately in front of her as she looked around the younger girl. “And you’ve not got any of your usual cohorts, like the kappa. I’ve found you at quite an interesting spot on the Mountain, I think. Were you in a rush to leave your house this morning? I only ask because I’m concerned you’re going to freeze.”

Marisa said nothing. Byakuren smiled, like she had been, innocent. There wasn’t any malice behind her words, not at all. It only made Marisa feel anxious.

“Are you headed off to the Road?” Byakuren finally asked, seemingly having given up on pretence. The blonde wondered how she knew, or if she had just had a lucky guess. They were rather close, so maybe it was just an assumption.

“…Maybe,” Marisa replied, feeling rather standoffish now. She shouldn’t be, because Byakuren wasn’t trying to mess with her, and had already provided her with some form of aid. Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to look the older magician in the eye. “If I was, would there be a problem?”

“Not at all,” Byakuren practically beamed, clapping her hands together. “After all, it really is not any of my business what you are doing on the Mountain today. Though, before you venture off toward the Road, would you do this old lady a favour? Would you come with me for a moment? There’s a little place I like to take some shelter in when I go on one of these hikes on the mountain. I’d like you to accompany me.”

She wanted to say no, because if she went to there with her, it would set back her plans. If she just said no, she’d be able to go on her way and continue. There’d be no turning back once she got on the Road. Everything would go the way she wanted it to, with any luck, and she’d have solved the incident and everyone would be happy. Yeah, so all she had to do was tell the youkai woman in front of her that she wasn’t going to do that. Hijiri was famously kind, and so she wouldn’t take rejection badly.

“…Okay,” Marisa said, and hung her head in shame as Byakuren took hold of her hand and guided her wordlessly across the snowy ground towards a tiny little shack.

Why couldn’t she bring herself to say no? If she was honest with herself, she knew the answer. Something about talking to Hijiri made her feel like she was a child again, learning from forbidden tomes under someone’s wing. How patient she was, how she smiled. Every time they spoke, Marisa once again realised why she tried not to speak to her. And yet, here they were, sitting in this warm little room, fire crackling as Byakuren talked about the latest disciple she’d picked up and Marisa wondering if there was any rubbing alcohol on the grounds she could put in her tea to try and distract from the inherent pain of this situation.

“I see you still have not become a fully fledged magician,” Byakuren said, a slightly curious look on her face. “Ah, it’s been quite some time since I last had a chance to speak to you, so I suppose I just assumed you had gone all the way.”

“I’ve never planned on learning abandon worms and abandon food,” Marisa tried and failed not to grimace.

“I see,” Hijiri seemed deep in thought, tapping her chin. “I’ve assumed far too much about you, I think. We are not as similar as I had thought.”

Marisa frowned, wondering what that meant exactly, and was suddenly worried that this was some sort of conversion attempt. Hijiri seemed both relieved and disappointed at the same time. She played with a strand of her hair, deep in thought, before she continued.

“I became a magician when my brother passed,” Byakuren sighed, smile suddenly dejected. Her eyes concentrated not on the girl before her, but the steaming cup of tea in her hand. “It was an arduous journey, and one that left me quite ostracised. This world is very different from the one I learnt my craft in… but many things do not change even over generations. I was, and I suppose that I still am, fearful of death. It’s the natural cycle of all living things, and yet the concept is still terrifying to me. That is how I know I still have far to go in my education.

“I had wrongly assumed that we were similar, and I was expecting to come across a Kirisame magician when we met earlier. I was wrong, and so I apologise.”

“Oh,” Marisa said, dumbly. “I see. Were you, uh, going to… turn me in or something?”

“Goodness no!” Byakuren laughed heartily, waving a hand back and forth. Marisa went red, realising the stupidity of the question she’d just asked far too late. “Have you forgotten who I am? If you had shown up on the Mountain as a magician, I would have offered to hide you away until we had reached a more accepting era. I still would, you know. Rather, I was quite excited to have another magician around my temple. Not that I’m disappointed in your choice. Human lives are beautiful and meaningful because they come to an end.”

“Are they really?” The younger girl bit her lip, fiddling with her apron. She’d worn this one especially for today, and inside were her spell cards and her mini-hakkero. It felt nice. “I’m not sure I see much beauty or meaning in death at all.”

Byakuren, for the first time in their entire meeting, frowned. She seemed to be mulling over something, and then returned to her usual expression.

“My brother’s death means a lot to me,” she placed a hand over her heart. “He was a man I looked up to. His death, to me, was senseless at the time. He had left me with so many questions, and I felt as though he had so much left to teach me. I thought it was meaningless, that he would pass and have so much left to give to not only me but to our faith. A wonderful man with only love in his heart for others shouldn’t be taken from this world, was how I was thinking. I was terrified of dying and not being able to fulfil my life’s goals. Through his passing, I not only dedicated myself to magic, but to my faith. I gathered followers, and I studied my scriptures diligently with the time I had accumulated from my magic. At the time, I was young and naïve and I couldn’t see that his death was full of meaning. Through his passing, within me ignited a desire to live in order to preserve his legacy. My temple is named after him. I owe my position I am in now to him. In whatever life he is living, I hope I have become a sister he can be proud of.

“I live to keep the flame of his memory alive. The work he done must never be forgotten. His teachings will become mine, and then mine will become my successors. Now, I am sure that if one day my abandon worms or my abandon food were to give out, and I entered the cycle of reincarnation… my passing would also have meaning for my disciples. I hope to ignite their desire to live thoroughly and eagerly. Just as Myouren’s passing ignited me.”

Life is short. Human lives especially are short. They are vibrant and colourful, but they flicker out in an instant. Like a firework on New Years. You fizzle out, but the memory of that wonderful show remains. Those who witness it talk about it as they go about their day, how much they enjoyed watching it, the combination of lights that were dazzling, how the sparkles looked against the inky black sky. Brief but beautiful. Momentary but eternal. Like a snowflake melting in your hand.

As Marisa thought about what Hijiri had said, she came to her own realisation. Byakuren’s eyes met her own, and there was a look full of understanding in them. Her mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton, but she took a deep breath and began to reply.

Lady Mima was already dead when they met, and so Marisa never really saw her disappearance as dying. Yet really it was the same thing in a practical sense. She left Marisa with a mountain of knowledge she’d never have gained otherwise, for which she was forever grateful for, and she had taken care of her as well as the spirit of a horrible woman could have done. Lady Mima was one of, if not the first, person she had ever come to respect at all. Perhaps that was because she was the first person to respect her. She was strict but she wasn’t unfair. There had been times, too, when she had shown real affection towards her. Marisa didn’t know that such a being would’ve been capable of that. They’d have debates; they’d spar and sometimes Lady Mima would let her win. At night, when she thought Marisa had fallen into dreams, her sheets would be tucked in tighter by an unseen force. Lady Mima wasn’t a perfect woman, and she wasn’t even a particularly nice one, but she’d taught her everything she knew. She saw the passions that Marisa held, and instead of dismissing them as something horrific and vile, she wanted to nurture them. No-one had done that for her before. It was special. It felt special. Marisa felt special.

Her vanishing caused her no end of grief, and it took her far longer than she’d anticipated to bounce back from it. She was only young, after all. Her life, when it wasn’t forcing duals with Alice or slinking around the Shrine, became books upon books of magical theory for quite some time. All she cared about when she realised Lady Mima was not coming back was learning as much as she could. Perhaps Lady Mima couldn’t teach it anymore, but she had no excuse not to learn. She was already this far…

Lady Mima had spent her final days with Marisa, and when she felt like giving up magic, she thought about that woman. Someone who understood when no-one else did, who encouraged and taught her to follow her dreams- if she gave up, she would be disappointing Lady Mima. She’d be disappointing herself. Even if Lady Mima was gone, Marisa was still there. If no-one else remembered her, if no-one else knew how much she had done for her, then that was fine. Marisa would remember. She wouldn’t forget.

Hijiri was wrong, that was the conclusion Kirisame came to. They were, in fact, very similar. Only one of them had become a true magician, but they’d experienced the same thing. Two sides of the same coin.

“Do you understand?” Hijiri smiled. It was a kind one, like always, but there was a fondness there that hadn’t been before.

“It’s not going to stop me,” Marisa admitted, drinking the last of her tea. “If anything, this conversation has only made me more determined. But yeah, I know what you’re saying. I know what I’m gonna do. Thank you.”

“That’s good,” Byakuren nodded, like she had obtained some ancient wisdom. “Please remember what you learnt today, especially if your journey does not go as you had expected.”

They tidied away the tea and put out the fire, finally venturing back out into the cold. Byakuren giggled about her exercise routine and how excited she was to get back to her hike as Marisa shivered. For some reason, she finally felt the sting in the air. They walked back to where they had met in silence, and Hijiri bowed deeply before she left. The two magicians went to turn their separate ways, before Byakuren sounded a loud gasp and spun back around.

“I forgot I had something else I was really supposed to tell you,” she looked rather embarrassed. “It was the whole reason I stopped here at all, actually. I was here to warn you- well, rather I was told to tell you to go home.”

“Why would that be a warning?”

“I’m not too sure myself. I thought you would know.”

The Road of Liminality was unusually quiet. Various venders actively turned away from her as she approached, many were in the middle of putting away their stock as she glanced around. Huh. Strange. What would this have to do with Marisa turning back and going home…

Suddenly, something slashed right by her cheek, and she yelped as she flung her body to the left in a twisting motion. It didn’t hit her, but it just barely missed. It-

“Weren’t you told to turn back?” A voice shouted from far above her. It was a voice she recognised far too well. “I knew you wouldn’t, so I can’t be too mad.”

“I’m not really into taking orders,” Marisa shrugged, looking up and seeing just exactly who she was talking to. “Not like one of those dolls of yours.”

Alice looked unamused, calling back the doll she had sent after the other magician and continuing to float ominously. Marisa joined her in the sky, and she noticed that she was holding that grimoire of hers. Perhaps this wouldn’t be a conversation after all.

“The Road’s quiet today,” she mused, looking down at the nearly empty section of road they were above. “I take it that’s got nothing to do with you?”

“I asked them to pack up some of their stalls,” Alice replied. Her fingers tapped out an irritated rhythm on her grimoire. “I didn’t want to damage anyone’s property should you not heed the warning I sent you.”

“Why- “

Just as Marisa was about to open her mouth, Alice clicked her fingers, and a couple of things happened at once. The first thing was instantaneous: Marisa stopped flying. Instead of plummeting to the ground like she had expected, she landed gently on her feet without much complaint. Try as she might though, she could not get back in the air. Alice, however, was stationary where she had been.

The second thing happened more gradually. She watched, in a mixture of horror and sheer awe, as the sky above her was gradually filled with a veritable army of dolls.

“You don’t listen to anyone,” Alice sighed, voice crisp even against the chilly air that swept around them. “Least of all yourself. I knew that this would be where you would come, and I knew that this would be the only time I could stop you. I can’t watch you continue to destroy yourself like you have been, or watch you lie so blatantly to me. So I’ve done what I should’ve done from the start.”

“And what would that be?”

“I’ve grounded you,” Alice grinned. The grimoire in her hands glowed a beautiful blue, as if confirming the use of a spell. “Come on, let’s see how well you fare when you need to dodge with your feet on the floor.”

The dolls marched. The pattern, as most danmaku was, was beautiful. It was almost like a dance, the way they floated back and forth, slowly descending. A dance that she could not afford to get hit by. Marisa held her broom tightly with both hands and ran. Layers upon layers of dolls and bright rainbow bullets shot across the floor before her, making her duck and weave as she participated in what probably looked like a light show. Whenever a doll approached too quickly, she swung at it with all her might, sending it flying backwards with her broom. Alice tutted.

Magicians were always known as a notoriously out of shape bunch. Patchouli had just about every disease, while Alice lacked a lot in physical strength and still sometimes managed to catch colds every so often. Marisa wasn’t an exception to this. Years of potions and poisons and magical components had weakened everything about her body. Kourin had made fun of her once for struggling to lift a bag of rice. Everyone she knew could beat her in a footrace. In fact, the only magician she knew who possessed any kind of physical strength or endurance was Hijiri. It had barely been 5 minutes, and Marisa’s chest felt like it was on fire and her knees felt weak.

“This is cheap!” She cried. Sweat dripped down her face in contrast to the deep snow around her. “You couldn’t do this.”

“It’s a good thing that I’m not doing it then,” Alice shrugged, and pulled out a new spell card. Fuck, she’d been so distracted by the suddenness of this encounter that she’d forgot she also had spell cards. It was too late to dig them out of her apron, at least right this second, since she had to try and analyse the pattern before she lost. “You were warned.”

“Not about this! Is this even legal?”

It probably wasn’t. Maybe it’d be fine for one spell card, but to prevent her from flying the entire fight was somewhat ludicrous. As she thought this, a large red bullet emerged from behind her, and she squealed as she flung herself to the floor to avoid it making contact. If she’d been one to care about her pride, that noise would probably have haunted her for the rest of her life. Quickly, she rolled onto her back and pulled out her mini-hakkero, yelling.

Marisa didn’t intend it to hit Alice, only the bullets. Of course, Master Spark was a pretty dodgeable spell anyway. If she had been in the sky, she’d have had more room to magic up some stars to make it more difficult to dodge, but as it stood right now she was laying face up on the floor like a turtle on its shell. So, that wasn’t an option. As the blast from her weapon ended, the bullets above her cleared and she hopped to her feet before she ran out of time to do so. Her legs shook with effort as she once again began to dive under and jump around the barrage sent her way. The spark had lessened it, but there was still a sizeable amount flying around her.

Alice watched as Marisa struggled. She didn’t intend on letting her win. Even if she happened to clutch this, she’d be too tired to travel the River. Whatever the outcome, Alice viewed it as a win. Anything to prevent that girl from getting to the Yama.

It wasn’t that Alice wanted to stop Marisa from getting the closure she seemed to be so desperate to find. On the contrary, that was all Alice wanted for her. To watch someone she had known for so many years suffer was difficult, and she wanted to help. But there was no way to help Marisa that would really satisfy her. Everyone had tried, but she had closed off her ears. One thing that always got through to her, though, was magic. They’d spent many days of their childhood sparring, especially after Alice had lost Shinki and Marisa had lost Mima. It was cathartic. Maybe, maybe Alice could get her to understand during battle that she didn’t need to go to such great lengths. That it was okay to live on, that Reimu wouldn’t mind it if Marisa lived to the fullest.

The card ended, and Marisa stood feebly in the middle of the road. Her broom was held in her hands like a sword, ready to be swung, as she seemed to wait on the next card. It was sort of pathetic. Sweat dripped off of her nose, her arms visibly shaking even from this distance, panting and heaving with effort. And still, she would not stop the battle. Frustrated, Alice raised her hands, leaving the grimoire to hover in the air before her and began to cast her third card.

The dolls swarmed like a cloud of locusts, spinning in a waltz around the magician. They were not intended to hit her, that much she could tell. And then came the barrage from above.

One look at this card, and Marisa knew she could not dodge it. Well, that wasn’t true. She couldn’t dodge it for long. She hadn’t the stamina to complete the pattern expected of her, and she didn’t want to waste another valuable card here if she had any trouble after this fight. Yet, she couldn’t lose. This couldn’t be the end. She didn’t want to turn back, she had to keep going.

The solution Alice was looking for, was that she wanted Marisa to move in time with the doll’s dance to dodge the bullets that would fall upon the cage constructed by them. They moved in such a way that you wouldn’t need to crane your neck towards the sky to dodge the spell properly. This sounds easy, and it was rather clever, which was to be expected from Alice. If she had been on her broom, or even just been allowed the ability to fly at all, this would’ve been simple. However, that was not the case. The dolls moved quickly, and Marisa felt like she had run across the entirety of Gensokyo as it was. She did some quick math, and figured she could last a quarter of the way through the spell before she would either have to concede or use one of her precious cards. If she managed to complete the pattern, then none of that would matter.

…Who was she kidding. She was struggling to breathe. This was stupid. The dolls around her spun and danced and twirled and shifted in and out and in and out and Marisa had enough and simply readied her broom, and whacked half of them away before running as fast as she could out of the circle. It wasn’t the right solution, and it wasn’t even an elegant spell she’d cast in response. Now, she was running on pure human desperation. Whatever it took to get out. Who cared about spell card rules anyway? Clearly not the youkai above her.

Alice fumed, and the grimoire before her swung open it’s cover like the maws of a great beast. Pages flaring and flipping and bright, another spell was cast upon the field. Marisa watched, suddenly concerned that maybe this had all gone a bit too far and that maybe she should just apologise to Alice for worrying her-

A slash. The grimoire was knocked clean out of the air and onto the floor, and the spells that Alice had been concentrating on so fervently vanished. It had happened too quickly to register with the naked eye, and so both magicians just stared at the other completely dumbfounded. Marisa blinked, and then realised what the slash was. Because the culprit began to talk.

“Heard there was a commotion down here,” it was that shinigami from a while back, standing between the two with her scythe across her shoulders. “Thought someone was just getting swindled or something, but it’s two people I didn’t expect to be brawlin’.”

If Marisa had the breath in her lungs to speak, she would’ve thanked Komachi with every bone in her body for stepping in when she did. Whatever the hell Alice was going to cast was going to be more hellish to dodge than the doll cage. Komachi seemed to have realised this, what with her knocking the grimoire away. Alice landed on the ground, shock subsiding, rushing towards it to ensure it was safe.

“Whatever that was,” Komachi raised an eyebrow as Alice held her book close to her chest, glaring up at her from where she was crouched on the floor. It was like some outsider had walked in on an argument between two siblings. “It wasn’t fair. You knew that though.”

“None of my spells are impossible to dodge,” Alice sniffled. Had she been crying? The look in her eyes said everything. Komachi should never have touched that grimoire. “They are all entirely non-lethal. It was legal.”

“Maybe it would’a been legal in the sky,” Komachi nodded upwards. “Y’know, like how we usually do these things. Anyway, you can’t be doing this here, you’re messin’ with people’s businesses. Call it a draw, and make sure you play fair next time.”

The shinigami stalked off down the Road, and Marisa still hadn’t recovered enough to call after her. In fact, Marisa’s legs decided that now was the perfect time to give out, and she fell over onto the Road like one of the dolls she’d smacked around moments ago. She flipped onto her back once more, spread out like a starfish and tried to un-wind herself. Alice was nearby still, flipping through her grimoire to see if any damage had been done. They both were on the floor for quite some time with neither party attempting to speak.

After a while of this, Alice walked over and held out her hand. She had been crying, but Marisa had no idea what it was she was crying about. Clasping at her hand, Alice grunted with effort to pull her onto her feet. Then, wordlessly, she slung Marisa’s arm over her shoulders and began to walk down the Road. In the direction of the River.

“It was a tie,” Marisa pointed out as they walked together. Alice side-eyed her and said nothing. She poked her side, and she yelped. “Oi, it was a tie.”

“You’re never satisfied with me just conceding!” Alice was red, embarrassed by the noise she made. “I can never just silently let you win. You’ve always got to hear me say ‘I lost’ before you let me live it down. Here, I’m not helping you walk anymore. If you’re feeling fine enough to mess with me then there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Yeah,” Marisa smiled, arm thrown off of Alice. They continued walking together regardless of that, though. “I just wanted to hear you admit it.”

Chapter Text

It wasn’t a fair match, that was why Alice conceded. They’d had games of danmaku like it before, where one of them did something unfair, but it never had any stakes to it. She was desperate and wasn’t afraid to admit it.  They approached the shore, and Alice stuck her hand out to stop the other girl.

They’d meet again, she was certain of it, but that didn’t mean she had to be happy about it. Walking her to the shore of the Sanzu River felt horrifying even if she kept in mind that Marisa would certainly return. If this was truly what she wanted, if this was how far she was willing to go, then so be it. Alice would not help her past this point. She’d half carried her to her destination, and she viewed that as enough of a loser’s penalty.

The other magician looked at her confused, since they’d just been standing for a little while, and Alice spun around and pulled her into a hug. At the start she had promised herself she wouldn’t cry, but that had already been broken, and so she sobbed again. Marisa patted her back gently as she cried into her shoulder.

“Come back safe,” Alice pushed herself away and wiped her eyes hastily. “I want a rematch on that danmaku battle, and I can’t get that if you end up stuck in Higan or whatever. And if you happen to find Reimu hiding somewhere alive, you bring her to me and the two of you can fight me together. She needs her ass beat for worrying the life out of us all.”

“You won’t have to worry about Reimu,” Marisa said. “I don’t think I’m coming back with her.”

Alice felt dumbfounded. Marisa walked off after, towards the dock, and Alice turned around to head home. There was nothing else to be done. Nothing else to be said. Though Alice found she did have something she had to say, just not to the girl whom she turned her back to.

The shinigami was, predictably, sitting around on her boat doing not much of anything at all. Marisa had half expected her to have been on her merry way to Higan, but she’d apparently decided to stick around. More likely than not, she was just wasting time.

“Don’t suppose you’d gimme a ride?” She grinned. The air here was not as chilly as it had been on the road. Probably a side effect of being close to that place of gentle warmth. Komachi merely raised an eyebrow. “C’mon, for your old friend?”

“Not my friend,” the shinigami held up one finger, and then displayed a second one. “And on top of that, you’re lookin’ pretty alive for someone headed that way. Oh, and you don’t have a penny on you. Three strikes, y’see. You’re out.”

“I’m gonna head over there whether or not you take me and you know that by now,” the magician shrugged, fiddling with the sleeves of her haori. “And I do have a coin on me. Just isn’t gold or anything.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Komachi laughed, stretching a bit as she did so. “Alright, fine. But if you get me into trouble you won’t get any more favours outta me. I already did you one back with the puppet girl.”

Not needing to be told twice, Marisa hopped into the boat and watched Komachi fiddle with whatever you had to mess with to get the boat to row properly. Then, they were off.There wasn’t much to see as you sailed across the Sanzu River. Marisa had been far more times than any living human really should’ve been, and never did it change. The same dewy fog, the reeds that swayed to and fro by some undetectable wind. That was the thing about crossing the River. It was all so still, and yet everything moved. They’d rowed so far that Marisa couldn’t see the bank that they’d left from, but still the shore of Higan was out of sight. Komachi hadn’t said a word, opting to just quietly row away.

“I have a question,” and then the shinigami groaned, like she’d been hoping the blonde would’ve kept her mouth shut the entire time. “See, if I told you that someone told me that I’d be spendin’ some of my time in the afterlife in Hell, would you say that’d be true?”

“What?!” Komachi practically barked out a laugh, doubled over in amusement. “Who told you that? That’s crazy. Y’know that only really bad people go to Hell, right? What’s the worst you’ve done, eh?”

“You’re gonna have to leave that with me,” which cued another round of belly laughs from the reaper at the helm. “I’ve definitely taken things that weren’t mine. Probably something about my magic studies that’d land me there too.”

“They’re relaxin’ on the magic stuff actually. Too many people here are in use of it. The youkai thing is still a no-go, but the stench of death is just reeking off of you. I know you aren’t a magician. That’s funny. I can’t believe you believed someone who told you something as insane as that. You’d have to have murdered someone or eaten them or- “

“Okay I think I get the picture,” Marisa held her hands up in defeat. “I just wanted to know for sure. Is that so bad?”

“Not really,” the woman shrugged, and pushing her oar through the water as if she was slicing a knife through butter. “I don’t expect humans to know how this stuff works, you guys are at least several hundred years behind the policy changes ‘cos news travels so slow from Higan to the livin’. It’s only if you’re really bad you go to Hell before you can reincarnate. You’re not bad enough to go there. They won’t let you into Heaven but you’ll probably just be stuck in the Netherworld ‘til they put you on the reincarnation list. Easy. Penance for whatever mundane sins you’ve committed. I think you were being made fun of, to be honest.”

“Huh. I guess you’re right, now that I think about it.”

“…If you were on your way to plead your case to the Yama then we ought’a just. Turn around.”

“I’m not going there for me. Keep rowing.”

Komachi didn’t turn the boat around, but she didn’t exactly keep rowing. She stopped for a minute, suddenly serious, scanning the girl behind her. When she seemed satisfied, the rowing continued.

“I believe you,” she didn’t seem happy to say that. “Maybe you listened to her after all. Well, that doesn’t matter. I’ll caution you real quick: you’re probably not gonna get the answer you want. If you’re here for the reason I think you are. And if you’re looking for a scrap, you’d have been better off back on the Road. Less dangerous there than heading into Hell.”

“I don’t need to go to Hell. The Yama will be at Higan.”

“You don’t know that. You’re just saying things.”

“I do know it, because she’s going to have been warned.”

Komachi stopped rowing, and in a flash of silver Marisa found the scythe she carried placed firmly before her neck. She didn’t seem very angry on the surface. With people as laid back as that, you can never really tell what they’re actually thinking. It was probably scarier that she seemed so calm. Marisa blinked.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” the shinigami’s voice was level, as still as the waters they ventured on, but with an urgency that betrayed that calm. “Why would she need to be warned?”

“I’m not here to cause trouble,” Marisa had her hands up in surrender. “Even if I was, it’d be easier to cause trouble back home than come out this far. I’m not looking to hurt anyone. There’s just people with a vested interest in me not finding anything out about this.”

People like Yukari. Yukari, who knew so much about everything and yet divulged nothing. The one person who would know more than anyone what was going on, and yet she maintained ignorance. Maybe she was truly blameless. Maybe Yukari really didn’t know what the sudden death of Hakurei Reimu was about. But there was something she wasn’t letting slip, and that was enough to tell Marisa that she wouldn’t want her to poke her nose around here. Yukari would probably have told the Yama about Marisa’s erratic mood. It would only make sense.

Yukari. She had the money envelopes counted and put away for safekeeping. Reimu must have been given those too. Money envelopes. If she’d had access to that, how different would her life have been? Actually, hold on. Reimu was always getting random monetary donations from people she never saw appear. Was it her? Was Yukari drip feeding her that cash?

“You’ve got some kind of murdering look in your eye,” Komachi’s steel was now very obviously touching her throat. “Are you sure?”

“I do?” Fuck. “I don’t have anything against the Yama at least. And if I commit a murder at Higan, doesn’t that make your job easier anyway? C’mon, let’s be practical.”

She shrugged and chuckled nervously.

“Hell of a lot of paperwork if you kill my boss.”

“Never heard of that one before. When did you guys open that up?”

Komachi didn’t find it funny. She probably shouldn’t have said anything. Minutes must’ve passed without a single miniscule movement from the shinigami, but it felt like hours. Then, she slowly pulled back and began to row.

The rest of the journey was quiet and didn’t take very long. The shore of Higan was as lukewarm and eerily quiet as ever. Reeds brushed against her legs as she hopped off of the boat, tossing Komachi what little silver she had on her. Then, it was time to continue on. On and on until she found the Yama, and failing her being at Higan like she’d hoped, then it would be time to begin the road to Hell.

What is Heaven? Well, there exists one, that much is certain. But what does it really consist of? Is it just an endless party? Perhaps it’s just a land devoid of suffering and filled with people who are caring. Maybe, though, it’s a place of the most loyal servants of the Gods, where only a select few make it in. Or maybe it’s just full of annoying, self-serving celestials and angels. Probably the latter.

The point Reimu was trying to make though, was that everyone’s Heaven is different. To her at least, none of those were her version of the perfect afterlife. No, what her version of Heaven would be… would be a series of happy memories on repeat. New ones, old ones, ones she had forgotten- any and all of it. That would be Heaven. To never forget what she’d felt, how much she’d learnt, what she’d seen, and who she knew. That would be joy.

So, that was how she knew she wasn’t there.

Of course, she knew she wouldn’t be there. She knew exactly where she was. Right now, she was waiting. It was just a matter of time. However, that didn’t mean that knowing made it any easier.

Happy memories- she had many. Though she wished she’d had more, like most people do as they pass, she was very much spoiled for the amount of them she’d experienced. Little things like being invited to dinner at the Moriya Shrine, or larger things like the flower viewing parties she’d held. All of them were precious and special to her in their own ways. That was why she knew they were wrong.

This was supposed to be a simulacrum of Heaven. Some sort of guilt-laden kindness bestowed upon the poor souls of the maiden’s that made up this void. Everyone’s version of Heaven is different, so different people would have different versions. But this was a poor imitation. There was barely any power left in this dying incantation, Reimu could tell as much as soon as she arrived. And the happy memories it showed her were all false.

Most of the time, happiness isn’t overwhelming. It’s something that you sometimes don’t even realise you were until after it passes. Tiny things can make you happy. Like waking up and finding the girl you like has cooked you breakfast, or your clothes smelling like the sweet spring breeze after drying them outside. But everything this false Heaven showed her was wrong. Well. Maybe not wrong. More like it was showing her what she’d wanted to see. For many, that would be enough. But she’d come here with a purpose, and this was just a disturbing distraction from the reality of the situation. The more she thought about it, the more she worried that if she hadn’t been so completely aware of what this was, there was probably a world in which this was enjoyable. Just knowing what she did broke this fantasy. She wondered if anyone else in here felt the same, or if those that had had already burnt up.

It hurt, though. Something about watching these false happy memories hurt. She couldn’t quite tell if it was painful because she was dead and could no longer bring some of the things this place showed her into fruition, or if it was because it completely bastardised some of the most precious moments in her life. It was okay. It’d be over soon. It would be no prince on a horse, but Reimu wasn’t into all that anyway. A wicked witch on a broom was far more interesting.

That was why whenever this fraudulent Heaven showed her a girl with a mop of fluffy blonde hair, she closed her eyes to it. It wasn’t real. She’d know when it was.

The Yama looked flustered as Marisa approached, which was fine. Of course, there’d been some kind of warning sent ahead of time. They stood, eye-to-eye, amongst a sea of spirits and golden reeds and spider lilies. She seemed incredibly rattled, like she was wishing she was anywhere but Higan, but she stood authoritatively nonetheless. A bird crowed in the distance.

“Still alive when you venture here,” Shiki frowned. “With all the places of death you frequent, you’re probably doing something terrible to your body. I’ve heard you’ve got business with me?”

“I’m looking for her,” Marisa tightened her grip on her broom. “You know who.”

“I do.”

…

She said nothing else. Just maintained eye-contact. Then, she shook her head. It was pity.

“You won’t find her here,” the Yama sighed. “Nor will you find her in Hell, or Heaven. She didn’t cross the River.”

“What?!” The desperation in Marisa’s voice surprised even herself. Shiki stood unmoving, but that didn’t mean the horrible look of compassion she was giving the magician wasn’t an outright attack. If people were going to look at her like that, then she’d rather they smack her around like Alice did instead. “That’s just- I mean I just don’t believe you. She’s crossed the River in her sleep! She’s been across it as many times as I have, and yet when it mattered she couldn’t make it. That isn’t right. Something had to have happened. What is it you aren’t telling me?”

“Sometimes souls are tired from the journey and- “

“You just specifically said she didn’t even cross it!” Marisa snapped, stomping a foot on the ground in frustration. “How could she be tired from a journey she never partook in? You’re hiding what happened from me. Are you sure that’s wise?”

Shiki Eiki had never really had to deal with a situation such as this before. Usually, people didn’t venture through the afterlife in search of people long gone. At least, not normal humans without a history in magic. They’d be dead by the time they arrived, unable to protect themselves against the perils of the Road or the River and would join their loved one in the afterlife. This was entirely unique, because the Kirisame girl had been studying the arcane since she was able to read and also because this was a place she had visited often to solve incidents. The afterlife was a place where there were no suggestion or complaint boxes. Maybe after this they’d have to consider one.

“I’m not going to get violent with you,” Shiki took a pointed step backwards. “If that was what you were implying. To be frank, I owe you no information. You’ve been given what you were looking for. The Hakurei Shrine Maiden isn’t here. That’s what you wanted to find out. I’ve told you. Now leave.”

She was stun locked. How many people were going to continue to get in her way? The God had been extremely quiet this entire time, and she almost willed it to pipe up and give her some advice, but it continued its silence. The Yama watched as several differing expressions flitted across the magician’s face, before settling on one in particular: annoyance. Marisa changed her stance, looking a little less combative now. It didn’t make Shiki feel any better. Komachi would be floating around nearby at least, so there’d be back-up if an altercation did happen.

“If she’s not here, then where is she?”

Shiki bit her lip.

“I apologise that I couldn’t have been of more help,” Shiki hoped she wasn’t sweating. “You know, you also should work on how you speak to people. This was horribly confrontational and you seemed to be exceptionally ready for violence- all of these things are going to affect your afterlife, you know. And- “

Marisa took a step forward, and Eiki took another purposeful step back. Maybe this job wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. She’d never wanted to work a public facing role. This was not what she was best suited to.

“And you’re quite into magic if I recall,” it was probably better to ramble about what she knew than to focus solely on the situation at hand here. “That’s all well and good, but you should consider cutting back on that- you’ve got a serious role to fill until things are sorted out with the Hakurei girls. A-and if you turn into a youkai that really affects where your soul ends up. You don’t want to go to Hell and I don’t want to send you there.”

She kept approaching. Eiki kept retreating.

“Trying to intimidate me isn’t going to work either,” that was only true for now. Eiki found she couldn’t look the human in the eyes. “You’ll only cause yourself more problems if- “

“BOO!”

From one of her famous gaps, out popped Yukari. She’d managed to elicit a shriek from the Yama and a gasp from the magician by way of popping out nowhere in between them. Eiki watched as the human behind the youkai began to grit her teeth into a snarl.

“Was it in poor taste to say ‘boo’ in Higan?” Yukari placed a finger to her chin as though deep in thought. “Ah, well I suppose it wouldn’t be quite as rude as saying it in the Netherworld. Hello, Shiki, it’s been too long! How’s it been in Hell? Hot?”

Recovering from the heart attack she’d just experienced, she felt her eye twitch. She hoped the rest of the week would be less eventful than today. “Yakumo,” she replied in complete irritation. “I can’t say that I’m pleased to see you.”

“Don’t be silly,” Yukari laughed, and reached behind her to pull the magician close to her. Marisa looked like she was ready to tear her into ribbons as Yukari pressed her against her side like some kind of unruly child on the playground. “I heard that my dog was going a little wild over here. I came to apologise on her behalf. She said she wasn’t totally feral, but I guess it was my fault for taking her at her word.”

Marisa had never really experienced being held by Yukari. At parties, she’d sometimes cling to Ran or Yuyuko or (if she was brave enough) Reimu and hang off of them. That was sort of fun and playful, and Marisa had never really thought about the kind of strength that the woman actually had. Now, she felt like her ribs were being crushed. For someone who looked about as physically strong as your average woman, it was insane that she possessed such physical power. Still, even though her body was feeble by comparison, she wriggled and struggled to get out of her grasp. Yukari still had that sweet, absent smile on her face as though nothing were wrong.

“You heard…?” Shiki murmured, before shaking her head and settling on a neutral expression. “Well, if you’re claiming responsibility of her then I’d like to ask you both to leave. You’re causing me trouble, and I have duties to attend to at my post in Hell.”

“Of course,” Yukari waved a hand dismissively. “My sincerest apologies again. Come along you.”

With a fierce yank, Marisa was pulled into the portal alongside the sukima youkai and swallowed up by it.

Yukari’s dwelling was the in-between. Each of these portals and gaps she opened up lead into that in-between. It was somewhere and nowhere all at once, which was a lot like Gensokyo itself. It was no wonder she’d helped with it’s creation, if Marisa really thought about it. That was where they were right now, that in-between. She’d half expected to be spat out in her own home and left full of questions, but that hadn’t happened. Instead, they were surrounded by a vast inky void, Yukari’s house nowhere in sight.

The smile that the youkai had on her face quickly vanished, falling away into something that resembled fury. Her grip on Marisa’s arm tightened painfully, and she flung her to the ground with an empty thud. The impact made the magician cry out in sheer shock, something she hadn’t done for some time, and she attempted to roll over to nurse her side- but was stopped by the youkai hovering over her. Doing all of that seemed to have levelled her back out to a state of just being pissed off, and Marisa was once again reminded of why youkai were so dangerous.

“Are you stupid?” Yukari spat; arms crossed against her chest as if to protect the magician from them. “I’ve been trying to keep quiet, attempting to calm the panic from the village at the prospect of you filling in for a Maiden, and you do something like this as payment? I’ve broken rules, I’ve spared you hours of sleepless nights by investigating- but you betray me like this. What were you thinking?”

“We aren’t allies,” Marisa groaned, realising now how tired and sore her entire body was. “And you’re not being honest with me, so I won’t be honest with you. Take it or leave it. Throw me around all you want.”

“Oh, so this is out of some petty desire for information. That’s why you took the God to Higan. I see, it all makes sense now. Why on earth would you find it a good idea to journey to the other shore with it hitching a ride?”

“I didn’t think about it. It didn’t say anything.”

“You never think. If it’s not a sigil you’re just not interested. You magician types are all the same. Head in the clouds. No sense of practicality around you at all. Just a stray dog that my ward took in, like they are all so wont to do. And it was perfect, wasn’t it? For you, I mean. Still clinging on there by a thread, are we? I bet you thought I wouldn’t find out.”

She was incensed, it seemed, and had focused on the God now as opposed to the magician, who had now gotten over the initial shock to at least sit up on her knees. The God didn’t stir. It said nothing. Yukari’s eyes betrayed the rest of her face. They spoke of a terrified woman and the rest of her face was in a victorious smirk.

“The two of you. How naïve can you be? Hiding such a thing from me under floorboards? In gaps? And how blind am I? For not having noticed until almost an entire year had passed. You did this on purpose. Well, whatever you’ve got in mind I’m not going to let you go through with it. What’s in place now works. It’s all that’s ever worked! There isn’t another solution, at least not one I’ve been able to conceive of. And you’re surviving on what may as well be faith driven life-support, so there’s no chance you came up with any decent ways out of this. Whatever she wrote down I can’t access, because someone taught her how to ward too well... So you can tell me and save us all and the Kirisame girl a lot of grief, or we can sit here and tire her out until you give up.”

…Yukari didn’t want to hurt anyone. In fact, as she stood here looming over the human, she already felt terrible about the reaction she’d had a minute ago. Throwing her on the ground was a bit too far. But this wasn’t about a single human or God, it was about the hundreds of them that lived in Gensokyo that relied upon the system that was in place in order to survive. Whatever Reimu and her God had planned out was either going to fix the major problem with the Barrier or break it entirely. What would become of all the creatures that lived here? The lives that Yukari had saved because of its existence- they’d all be extinguished in a millisecond were the Barrier to disappear. How could they do this? And how could someone born and raised here aid them in that goal? If it worked, no matter how horrible or barbaric it was, then it worked and that was what mattered.

Marisa, who had sensed that Yukari had gotten distracted, whipped a leg out from under her and swung it firmly into Yukari’s ankle and watched as she toppled over. Then, with whatever reserve of stamina she had left, began to run.

If there was one thing she’d gotten good at over the years, it was being fast. Sure, she was pretty bad on foot and hadn’t the physical strength of the average girl her age, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t run like a tengu in a pinch. You learn pretty quickly to be fast when someone’s always chasing you. Adrenaline kicked in, although the engine was clearly running on empty, and she scrambled her way through the void for anything that appeared like an exit.

Instinctively, she reached around for her broom and found it to be entirely missing. Fuck. Well, that sort of ruined the whole “hop on the broom when you get tired” plan. She must’ve dropped it when Yukari pulled her through the gap. Speaking of which, she was probably on her feet by now and in hot pursuit. Well. Yukari wasn’t going to run but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t chase. This entire place was like some kind of haunted house attraction- something you’d see at a festival run by a bunch of silly kids in youkai costumes. This was Yukari’s home, where she was most comfortable, and she’d find Marisa in a split second if she wanted to. She could pop out from anywhere- was probably right behind her as she formed that thought…

This place wouldn’t have entrances or exits that Yukari hadn’t made herself, and it wasn’t as though Marisa of all people could understand the inner workings of that person’s brain. The goal for now was to get as far from the youkai as possible, and search for anything that looked like one of the gaps she’d so often seen.

…

Yukari, contrary to Marisa’s fervent belief, was not chasing her. She wasn’t even paying attention to her. She was, still, on the floor where she’d crumpled up a few minutes ago. Really, she probably should chase after her. That’d be a bright idea. But no, she just lay there like she often did in her own bed and closed her eyes. Then, she laughed. Laughed like she’d never laughed in her life. How ridiculous! Ah, her back hurt, and she hit her head on the way down… it was all so silly.

Slowly and purposefully she pushed her hand through a gap she created by her side, and fished around until she grabbed that magician by the neck of her blouse. Carefully, because the girl still had the energy to writhe like a fish out of water, she sat up and pulled Marisa through until they were able to look at one another’s faces.

“Do you know what they have planned?” Yukari asked, looking at the very red, very sweaty face of Kirisame Marisa. She was panting heavily, clearly having tried to escape with very little success. It’d only been about 10 minutes. Miasma was a terrible thing for the human body, it seemed. “You were the one in possession of the diary. If the God won’t tell me, then will you? Think seriously about your answer.”

“I can’t tell you,” Marisa’s speech was sort of choked, probably because of the whole hanging by the neck of her blouse thing. “Not because I wouldn’t. But I don’t know. I don’t know what’s in the diary.”

“Ah, I see. So you are entirely useless. How very fitting. Well, I guess if I can’t break this seal, I’ll let you get on with it. If we all die, let it rest upon your conscience, okay? I won’t be accepting responsibility for the whim of a dead Shrine Maiden and a feeble God.”

Marisa grabbed hold of Yukari’s arm, eyes steely and serious even as she hovered in the gap like a cat caught by the scruff of her neck. Yukari flinched at the touch.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I don’t. And it doesn’t matter if we all die anyway, so run along and ruin the world I made.”

“I meant about Reimu- “

“No.”

She had planned on just letting go of the magician after answering her, but suddenly a feeling she hadn’t come across in quite some time overcame her. Instead, she pulled the girl entirely out of the gap, and placed her down next to her.

It’d been easier not to think about Reimu as the person she was and more like the entity she was. She was one in the long line of Hakurei Shrine Maidens, whom Yukari knew was destined for a troublesome, sad end. One that was most likely avoidable, if only she’d been smarter. So, when you’re the one who pulls the short straw on looking after those girls, you’re better off not getting attached. Better off not caring or caring very little past what you really need to. It was always fine when their mothers and fathers were around to look after them, that way there wasn’t any need to watch over them quite so carefully. But so often, there weren’t any parents.  Yukari stopped holding them as children after the first few passed.

Reimu had grown up under her mother’s tutoring and hadn’t really needed much guidance at all. She was interested in the Barrier and Yukari was happy to help with that, and even taught her about boundary manipulation. They’d had a friendly relationship for many years, until it became clear to Reimu who exactly Yukari was, and what exactly being a Shrine Maiden entailed.

That friendliness had gotten increasingly strained after an incident in the Village. That night, the girl had walked home instead of flying, and began to ignore Yukari after that. Which was all fine. It was what Yukari would prefer she do, anyway. It was a bad idea to get attached to human beings, let alone ones who lived about as long as a cherry blossom. Reimu grew cold and withdrawn and often refused to speak to her even when there were important things she needed to be doing.

Then, the girl showed up at the Shrine. She’d been under the care of the Mima woman, but that spirit had passed on some time before, and Yukari watched the two girls flounder in their friendship from afar. Hakurei girls never went to the village school, and Reimu had never interacted with a person her age outside of battle. As a de-facto guardian, Yukari was wary. If it’d been a totally normal girl without the magic strings attached, there’d be no reason to worry about their friendship at all. But Reimu knew about as well as her the danger there. She’d said as much the next time they spoke.

“She’s interesting,” Reimu had just turned 12 that year, if Yukari remembered. “I’m only doing it to keep an eye on her… someone needs to make sure she doesn’t turn.”

Yukari knew it wasn’t the whole truth, judging by how quickly the girl went pink and changed the conversation. But it would be unwise to deny a girl so lonely a chance at connection. Plus, it brought the enthusiastic ramblings about the miko’s daily life back to her. There was always an arm’s length between them, and Yukari was aware that by now it was always going to be present.

The Hakurei Shrine Maidens that came before weren’t very sociable. Many left and had families and husbands, but generally they had little friends. Reimu’s mother didn’t want to interact with youkai at all outside of times she had to, and frequently showed distaste for Yukari herself whenever she’d appear to check in on her. Reimu, however, had garnered a staggering number of friends and acquaintances after her meeting with that Kirisame girl. Not that Reimu was very sociable. She lacked in social etiquette and cues at the best of times and was generally averse to other people outside of that magician. The parties she’d hosted had always amassed a huge number of youkai. This was a little bit of a problem. She wasn’t scared enough of them.

Yukari had probably coddled her. Reimu had never seen a newly born youkai chew on a family member’s leg or witnessed a terrible murder like the women before her had. She was sheltered. That magician girl’s presence probably didn’t help matters. It would weigh on Yukari’s mind if anything ever happened to her because of her blasé attitude, but she found herself unable to step in.

She was, somehow, happy. And when someone who has had the odds of happiness stacked against them from the moment of their birth beats them and becomes happy anyway, it feels cruel to rip it away. If Yukari had shooed away that Kirisame girl by frightening her, or talked Reimu into shunning her away, then perhaps things would’ve been different. Reimu probably wouldn’t have been happy at all, but she’d at least have been more wary of youkai.

Yukari wasn’t that cruel. And she wasn’t so heartless. When you watch something grow, whether you like it or not, you want to protect it. Maybe she’d never held those former Shrine Maidens in her arms, but she always felt like she’d cradled them. Had private approvals and disapprovals of their marriages, placed mental bets on what they’d name their daughters, sometimes sat with them when they cried. She’d doomed them, so she hadn’t ever really allowed herself to be sad about any of their passings. Reimu was no exception.

“Yukari,” she’d grown into a woman in the blink of an eye, but Yukari could never see her as anything other than the wobbly baby she’d once been. “I think… that I might like her a lot.”

“I think you’ve got terrible taste,” she had stretched out in a huge yawn. “Far be it from me to judge, though. Why are you telling me this? Weren’t we discussing the Lunarians a minute ago?”

“I probably don’t have much time left. I wanted to tell someone before I wouldn’t have the chance to.”

“Aren’t I the wrong person to tell that to? Don’t be so silly and tell her yourself.”

“No. I can’t.”

“Of course you can- “

“I can’t. It’d be too sad. Let’s not make anything worse. Could you do me a favour, though?”

“…You know, you’re speaking like you only have a week or two left, when I’m well aware you have plenty of time. Another 5 years at least.”

“Not enough time to do what I want. I wasted too much of it dancing around her instead of with her. I don’t want 5 years, I want more.”

“That’s just not possible.”

“I know. That’s why I want to ask you to do something for me. I never ask you to do anything, mostly because you’d forget, so can you do this one thing for me?”

She was smiling and that was scary. Yukari was entirely vexed, and dumbly nodded her head.

“She deals with loss really poorly. You don’t have to do anything crazy for me, just watch over her for a bit until she settles down. I don’t want anything else. You don’t like her enough to be nicer than that anyway.”

“Couldn’t you have picked anyone else?”

Reimu had shaken her head, still smiling. “There wasn’t anyone else.”

All of a sudden, Yukari was back in reality and feeling like she’d been hit by a truck. She turned to her left. Marisa looked at her with eyes full of concern, and Yukari broke into a wry smile.

“You know, I’d make a terrible mother,” Yukari sobbed, and suddenly realised she was crying. It wouldn’t stop. Marisa shook her head, and slowly wrapped her arms around Yukari. Never would she have thought there’d be a time where they hugged like this. But here they were, and there was, and it was strange but Yukari couldn’t say she didn’t like it.

“Don’t put yourself in competition with mine,” Marisa huffed, and Yukari giggled.

“I think I’d lose,” Yukari sighed. They sat like this, still in the in-between, clinging onto one another like an anchor. “I’ve been a pretty horrible mother-in-law though, I suppose.”

“…I think she has you beat there too.”

Chapter Text

The two of them had broken apart from one another some time ago, and the tension had dissipated almost entirely. Marisa’s side still hurt, and Yukari’s chest burned from the effort of crying, but they had both mostly recovered from the incident.

“Never seen you with a haori before,” Yukari shuffled to her feet, dusting herself off. “Or is it stolen?”

“The Myouren Temple head gave me it on my way to Higan,” Marisa grumbled, wrapping it around her. “Did you plan that?”

“I haven’t spoken a word to Hijiri,” Yukari hummed, smiling. It was hard to regain your composure after breaking down so obviously. Then, she sighed heavily and shook her head. This would be tough. “I’ll only say this once, so please enjoy it. I apologise for throwing you and losing my temper in the manner I did. It wasn’t very fair of me.”

“Eh?” Marisa scratched her head. “Who switched places with Yukari?”

Privately, Yukari wondered if she should’ve thrown her harder but chose not to voice it. Marisa, who was still sitting cross legged on the floor, however, could read such a thing from the subtle change in the woman’s face.

“I wasn’t kidding earlier,” Yukari’s expression shifted back into something resembling seriousness. “You just go on ahead and do whatever it is that Reimu and the God had planned out. Granted, you have no idea, but if you have any sort of gut feeling I’m telling you to just go ahead with it. I’m past the point of caring now.”

“I would if I had any idea where to go from here,” Marisa finally rose to her feet, crossing her arms. “I’d run back home and check the diary but- well. Doesn’t it feel like I’m running out of time?”

The youkai had to agree, she was. The God was always a ticking time bomb, and it was just a matter of time. She closed her eyes in thought for a moment, before stumbling upon an answer.

“I think I’ve got an idea,” Yukari folded her arms and looked the magician up and down. “I’m going to drop you off somewhere, okay? And then you just get on with it from there. Before you protest- I’ll give you a hint. At least, what I can only assume is a hint. I’m working off of intuition and my knowledge of how that girl operated.”

And her knowledge of how Gensokyo was formed, though that was left unsaid. Marisa, burnt out and desperate to be finished with this quest, nodded as she straightened up.

“There is nothing more precious to the Hakurei family than the Barrier and the God,” she felt worn out, and glad to get to bed soon after seeing the human off. Crying really did make your eyes tired. “It has to be something to do with the Shrine itself, or the Barrier. I can’t for the life of me decide what it is. I just know- well, I feel as though I know it has something to do with them. I make no promises.”

Well- Marisa didn’t want to say it, but that much was obvious. As they stood facing one another, she found herself brimming with questions and things she wanted clarification on. Yukari was hiding something, just as she always was, and Marisa had cracked that hard exterior a little bit earlier but it wasn’t going to grant her free entry into Yukari’s mind. Did you hide food around the Shrine? Were the pennies that ended up in the donation box all from you? Was that money from condolences? Was she special to you? Were they all special to you? What did you do that was so bad that you can’t look me in the eyes when you speak her name? But Marisa didn’t say any of that. There was enough time to ask questions of the youkai when this was all settled.

“Hey,” Marisa sighed, Yukari raising an eyebrow in response. “Before I go. I just wanted to, uh. Well. Say thanks. For helping me out at all, y’know. I always knew you didn’t like me so I know it must’ve been hard to try and get along with me. I’ve got a hundred things I’d like to say and a hundred questions I wanna ask, but for now this’ll have to do. That’s about it.”

“How polite, I appreciate it. I’m going to sleep until you return or the world ends. Whatever happens first from the course of action you’re about to take. Good luck.”

And so a gap opened up beneath Marisa, and she landed squarely on her backside at the porch of the Shrine. It’d been some time since she had last been there, and she was getting really tired of hitting the floor. After hauling herself to her feet for hopefully the final time that day, she started thinking.

The God had been its usual silent throughout the entire encounter with Yukari and hadn’t been saying anything since she left home. Frowning, she stalked into the Shrine. Everything sat as it had when she’d last been there for the funeral. Yukari- or more likely Ran- hadn’t even replaced the kotatsu with the table. It was clean, and it wasn’t even too cold considering the winter had settled in. Outside, when she’d fallen onto the porch, had been swept too. Someone was looking after the place, but that shouldn’t have been too surprising.

Everything Reimu left behind for Marisa was at her house, and she had no idea if anything she’d left behind for the next Shrine Maiden would be hanging around the place. It seemed like one of Yukari’s shikigami were frequenting the place, so probably not. Wouldn’t hurt to try, at least. After rummaging around in cupboards, dragging anything and everything out of the storage room and ransacking the kitchen- it was safe to say there was nothing. Clueless and now realising that her legs would never be the same after the day she had, she flopped down at the kotatsu and gnashed her teeth together.

What was it? What was she missing? Well, sure, the Shrine was precious to Reimu in that she lived there. Gensokyo was precious to her too. The Barrier- well that was a given wasn’t it? The Hakurei Shrine Maidens maintained it and fixed it. It was what everyone knew them for. It was called the Great Hakurei Barrier. Maybe Reimu hadn’t been a part of the creation of such a thing, but she still cared about its upkeep even though she had gotten lazier and lazier about it over time. But was it precious? What did Yukari even mean by precious?

Perhaps she wasn’t thinking abstractly enough. The Hakurei Shrine Maidens maintain the Barrier. If they maintain it-

Come to think of it, no-one had ever claimed to have laid eyes on Reimu’s body except for Yukari. She’d been the one to speak about the burial, and to plan out the rites and rituals for it. But as far as Marisa was aware, there was no Hakurei family burial plot anywhere within Gensokyo. Which was weird for several reasons, a huge one being that if their life expectancies really were as low as her mother claimed, it would take up a sizeable portion of land to bury bodies. If it was true that they were buried, that is. Marisa had always doubted that. It was strange to bury a body. Especially the body of someone important. Maybe she had been right all this time. Maybe there wasn’t a body- not in the sense that Reimu was still walking around or anything. No, more like there had been a body, and it had been disappeared.

Several things flicked through her mind at once: Yukari crossed the border with the body and buried it in the Outside World, the burial plot is in another Border World- before she just stood up and walked back outside.

A wall of cold air hit her as she stomped off behind the Shrine. She’d done this exact thing before, but she never went past it. The scenery behind the Hakurei Shrine was beautiful, and it proceeded on infinitely, which was a gorgeous lie. Marisa had tested it out on her broom before, and there was no way to get to the location before you. At a certain point, it just repeated endlessly. When she turned back, she was the same distance from the Shrine as she had been at the start, and she’d stopped the experiment there. Today, though, it’d go further. She’d never made a hole in the Barrier before (not that it didn’t interest her, it just wasn’t really a good idea to mess with the fabric of your reality when you’re inexperienced in that kind of magic) but this was as good a time as any other to attempt to. If you walked until you hit the point of repetition in the landscape surrounding you, then it’d stand to reason that you were probably as close as you could get to the Barrier. And so she walked until the scenery gave her déjà vu.

She still had fuel in her mini-hakkero. That was good. But it wasn’t going to be strong enough to put a hole in the Barrier. So, she put more in. More and more until she was sure it was dangerous. Mini-hakkero in hand, she whispered a prayer under her breath and aimed squarely in front of her. Gathering her focus, picturing the straight line that would be the most destructive spell she’d ever cast, she steadied her feet for the sheer impact that was about to occur.

Rinnosuke had always warned her about this tool of hers. He’d made it, after all, so he felt responsible. Looking back, he probably felt responsible for her in many ways. Marisa had taken that for granted. Every time she arrived at the shop, he had food stocked up and he never cared if she swiped it. It was almost like a game. He’d buy food specifically for her to steal, and they both acted as though it was a real case of burglary. Maybe he was a little too fond of his ramblings and his strange antiques from the outside world, and perhaps Marisa found it a little too fun to wind him up- but he was a good guy. He cared about her.

If she fired the mini-hakkero with the amount of fuel and power she was ready to pour into it, then it’d certainly be destroyed. It was one of a kind, and someone had built and fixed it for her time after time. She’d lose a piece of Kourin, and a piece of her life that held so much meaning to her. And if the mini-hakkero would be destroyed from the blast, then what of the Barrier? The rest of the people in Gensokyo? Those people, those memories would be burnt up if she somehow broke the Barrier.

She was starting to get cold feet. The Barrier- well she didn’t want to break it, no matter what Yukari seemed to think. Maybe if she hadn’t gotten so brazen with the fuel and just attempted to poke a hole in it with a normal amount, or maybe if she’d thought of another way to-

Hey. It was right here, right? The Barrier. It was just in front of her. Her outstretched arms were probably closing in on it, if not already being wrapped around by it. If she stopped thinking about her mini-hakkero and how much of a panic she was in, and instead channelled that focus on the Barrier- would that work? Sometimes, if your focus is sharp enough, you can cut through anything. Maybe, without blowing up the world she loved and the most precious thing she owned, she could poke her way in.

One thing Marisa noticed about the Barrier- it thought. It allowed things in and out. Some of it was complete nonsense, like books in other languages or devices you couldn’t possibly understand the use of with Gensokyo’s understanding of the world. People like Yukari could bypass that need entirely- the need to pass through the Barrier- because they could manipulate boundaries. If Reimu had really trained hard enough, she could have crossed the Barrier into the Outside World… but that stuff had never really interested her. Naturally, if something thinks, you can confuse it. If you confuse it enough, you can find gaps in the chainmail. You can worm your way in.

If it was right here, in front of her, then all she had to do was focus on it and try very hard to confuse it. That was easier said than done. Focusing on it was one thing, but trying to confuse an ancient boundary that existed to contain a Border World was probably a lot harder. That was fine, she supposed.

Marisa had never died before. She had no idea what it was like. She had no idea if there was a feeling attached to it at all. It wasn’t as though she’d ever thought to ask one of the ghosts she knew, or really thought about it much at all. If this was to be the end, then all things considered it wasn’t a bad way to go.

The tips of her fingers pressed against something that words couldn’t begin to describe- something half real and half illusion, not quite solid but not exactly a liquid nor a gas. It was a presence and it was there, and yet it wasn’t at all. Vaguely, there was a voice. No- not quite a voice. Rather, there was a chorus. So many voices and some of them sounded like her own, and others entirely foreign- though some were sickeningly familiar. Her eyes flung open, and she was

Nowhere. Nowhere. Nowhere.

There was nothing there, was there? It was empty. But… why? Why then was it so full?

She slowly lowered her arm, whose hand was mysteriously missing her beloved hakkero and realised that her senses were entirely overwhelmed. So much was happening at once that it was too much to perceive at all. There was no real indicator of that, but she somehow knew. How? How could she know? Ugh, her head hurt. Everything hurt. Her eyes, her legs and arms and especially her ears after the cacophony of voices- they all ached.

Taking a step in the Barrier was like walking through a swamp. It was nothing like the nowhere that Yukari lived in. Maybe that was because Yukari dealt in gaps? Marisa had no idea. She was so tired, and everything was sore, and there was no-one here and yet there were so many people here. Too many people. It felt like as she pressed on, she was brushing shoulders with another as she did, but never seeing them, and never learning if they had anything to say to her. How long had she been here for? Where was she even walking to?

She didn’t know, but she knew. Something was telling her. Something, someone, whatever, was pushing her in a direction. One foot in front of the other. There was no temperature. It wasn’t clear if this was day or night anymore. Not that it would exist in such a space.

She had never really liked the dark, and maybe that was cliché and a little bit juvenile. Night wasn’t ever something she thrived in. The stars and the moon were all it was good for, and little else, in her opinion. Being here, in the Barrier, was much like being in the dark. It was imperceivable and lonely and yet something lurked. It was teeming with unknowns. As a little girl, she’d have run ragged around her house for a match and a candle just to watch it burn as she tried and failed to sleep. Even now as an adult, that need for light plagued her. Her hakkero gone, she was truly without a source of light. The rain too- that was another thing she hated. Especially when the forces of the dark and the rain combined. Some of the worst nights of her life she spent in a dark room as drops of rain pelted against the window. At least it didn’t rain here.

One of the many times she’d stayed at the Shrine, it had stormed pretty heavily. It’s sort of embarrassing to be scared of storms, or even to be scared of the dark or be upset by the rain, right? At least, she seemed to think so. Her immediate reaction was just to head back home but Reimu-

Oh.

But Reimu insisted she stay that day. She got all fussy, grabbed her arm and started lecturing her on how dangerous it was to fly when the sky was crackling with electricity. You could get killed, she’d said. Or get seriously injured. Then, to stave off both of their embarrassments, they bathed separately as though it’d help wash away whatever feelings had been developing over the years.

The memory was so vivid, it was like she was there. That night, they’d set up the futons next to one another as the storm raged outside. It was noisy, and it was so dark, and Reimu was about to put out the light when Marisa held onto her hand.

“Could you let it burn out?” She was saying it out loud as she remembered it. She was wearing some of Reimu’s spare nightclothes, and they were a little too long on her and sort of hung off her in a way that was just comfortable enough. It was like they were hugging, if she imagined hard enough. Reimu made eye contact with her, visibly confused. Her hair was a little wet still and framed her face nicely against the glow of the little candle. “I- uh. Well, I don’t really like storms all that much. I’d just… prefer to fall asleep as it burnt out. Sorry.”

Reimu smiled, not in a mocking or unkind way, but instead one of complete understanding. They’d both been so stupid, Marisa thought. They both should’ve known. They both should’ve done something. She drew her hand back, adjusting her position a little.

“That’s right,” it even sounded like she was in the room with her. Reimu shook her head gently and rubbed a thumb absent-mindedly over the back of the other girl’s hand. “I forgot. We can let it burn out on its own. Hey…”

They both settled into their sheets, still looking at one another. It was like the storm outside had grown quieter, now they were in their own world. It could rage on all it liked, but it was out there and they were in here, and it was nice. Separated and safe.

“You never told me why,” Reimu continued. Huh. Marisa supposed she hadn’t. “I sort of find rain relaxing.”

“The rain isn’t… too bad,” Marisa couldn’t really bring herself to look her in the eyes anymore. “But if there’s a storm, it gets so dark. I dunno, I’ve never liked the dark. At least at night there’s light in the sky. But during a storm the clouds cover it up. And it all looks pretty angry up there, and even the light it produces is like its lookin’ to destroy.”

“Oh, I suppose you’re right. The moon and the stars get covered up… well, you wouldn’t want to be outside stargazing in the rain anyways, would you?”

“Yeah. But y’know, storm clouds cover up the sun too. Even during the day a storm makes things dark. I guess even during the day they cover up the stars.”

“…It’s not really an answer.”

“Is it not? I told you why I don’t like storms, didn’t I?”

“You did, but I guess I wasn’t expecting that answer.”

Reimu’s words were ones of disappointment, but the tone of her voice and the look on her face were far from that. In fact, she looked relieved. It was then that Marisa realised that this wasn’t how the conversation had gone- well, it was mostly the same. Except that part at the end. Something in Reimu’s eyes glittered.

“Can you tell me something else?” She asked, and she had propped herself up on her elbows, looking more awake than she had before. Marisa nodded and felt like she should be confused. “How close is New Years?”

“…In about a month,” Marisa answered, and then shot up in the futon. No, that wasn’t right. The storm outside was a summer one- the air outside was hot and humid until the sky burst open. It was mid-June. Well, it wasn’t mid-June. It was the middle of November. But when this had happened, it had been mid-June. So that made no sense. “No. I mean- I guess it is a month away but we’re… this isn’t…”

Reimu had sat up on her knees and instead of answering or saying anything at all, she placed her hands on the side of Marisa’s face. And the world around them bloomed and shattered in a million ways, until Marisa realised that they were both in the nothing that was the Barrier.

She was just like she was the last time that she saw her. Wrapped up warm for the coming winter and her hair cut short to just above her shoulders. Everything was the same. It was almost like she was real. But that couldn’t be the case. The warmth and the feeling of the hands cupping her cheeks said otherwise, though, and she found herself unable to determine what to believe. Marisa felt dumb. This had to be some elaborate youkai trap.

“It’s really you,” Reimu muttered, her eyes wide and scanning the girl in front of her. “Not anyone else, not a figment or anything like that- it’s really, actually you. And- um. Well, maybe this isn’t the time but what are you wearing?”

“Eh?” Marisa glanced down to look at the summer clothes she’d pulled on in a fit of desperation that morning and the haori that Hijiri had generously given her. It was a terrible combination in reality.

“If it’s winter you’re going to freeze to death,” Reimu chided, hands still clamped on Marisa’s face. “I didn’t think you’d come. And sometimes, it seemed like it was you who arrived but it was just a dream. This time, it really is you. I can’t believe it.”

The miko’s hands dropped, but before she could say anything else Marisa lunged forward and wrapped her arms around her. Yeah, she was real. Real and solid and not at all like the Barrier. It could just be a trick, but it somehow didn’t feel like one. Reimu’s arms snaked around her and they held one another. It was nice, and it felt good. Marisa couldn’t help but sob as she buried her face into the neck of the miko. When had they even last hugged? They’d spent so much time together that little things such as that slipped her mind entirely.

It hadn’t been long since they saw one another, but it had been so long. Everything that had weighed her down until now felt like it had vanished itself away, and she was now floating in a sea of relief.

“Reimu I- “ Marisa’s voice was shaky and lost. “I don’t know where to start. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have left and I should’ve come back sooner and I don’t know. I don’t know, and I’m sorry.”

“No,” Reimu’s fingers were running through her hair in a soothing motion. Marisa felt her breath hitch. “You’re not the one who should be sorry. I am. I did this. So I can’t accept your apology. There’s nothing you could’ve done that would’ve made me change my mind.”

Marisa squeezed her tighter, like she was going to vanish before her eyes at any moment.

“And it wasn’t because I was unhappy,” Reimu continued, sounding utterly sincere. “And it wasn’t because it was time for me to leave, either. I had to put a stop to all this, and it took me a year to figure out how. It was just unfortunate that it was the nuclear option. But it’s all about to be over very soon.”

It would be over soon. What? Something at the back of Marisa’s neck felt as though it was on fire, and she just willed herself to ignore it.

“People have a lot of things to say about my family,” Reimu’s voice was all she could bring herself to focus on. “You’ve probably heard some of it. Not all of it is wrong. But it isn’t all true either. What is true is that I was always going to die before you. And for getting close to you, I’m sorry. I just… I wanted to be selfish, I guess. All of us, we die very early. All of it has been by design.”

Gensokyo’s Great Hakurei Barrier was maintained by the Hakurei family’s Shrine Maidens. At first, it was just a deal between the youkai sages and the God that they’d monitor it. But then, things started to get out of hand. The Barrier could choose what to let in and what to keep out, but that was frequently mindless and without any kind of reason. The God’s diminishing power, which had occurred solely from its dying presence outside, hadn’t really been keeping the Barrier at its full strength either. Things that shouldn’t have gotten in did. Diseases that didn’t exist manifested themselves in Gensokyo. The Barrier had barely been in place, the God barely situated and the Hakurei family barely moved in when disaster began to strike. Yukari could see the end of her dream spelling itself out right before her eyes, and so she did something unthinkable. There were lots of possible solutions, looking back. Looking from Reimu’s perspective, she could see hundreds. But Yukari could not. Reimu had no idea what had befallen that woman in her time roaming the Earth, but it couldn’t have been anything good.

It was decided that, in order to power the Barrier, the Hakurei Shrine Maidens would maintain it. In every sense of the word. The God would provide the Maiden with power, and she would in turn gather as much faith for the God as she could. It was a loan. It wasn’t forever. That power would eventually be returned to the God, and it would then bestow that power on the successor. This was a simple enough thing to understand and to process, because how else would a God save itself from suffering into non-existence? By providing its power to a Shrine Maiden and allowing her to gather faith, it could sustain itself far better… however this doesn’t address the Barrier.

The first Hakurei Shrine Maiden of Gensokyo died before her time. She’d fallen ill and passed away, with little to be done about treating her. To Yukari at the time, this was a waste. So much potential, and so much that girl had yet to provide for her faith and to her job. But then it occurred to her. The soul. A soul thinks, it has a personality- and with a soul so full of faith and potential, was this not the solution? Full of energy, and able to think. Make decisions. Understand. Let things in or out. Yes, this was the solution. It was clear as day.

It hadn’t been easy to convince the God, nor was it easy to convince the Yama, but it was already done. No longer would a soul from the Hakurei family cross the Sanzu river in death. Instead, they would be burnt up in the Barrier as fuel. Potential energy. Lives ended before their time, with so much ahead. It worked. Now, the Hakurei family could maintain the Barrier even in death, and the Barrier had a brain. Multiple brains.

Cruel, was what it was. Even Yukari knew it. Before long the girls of that family were socially ostracised (what else could it be other than a curse?) and the God’s power dwindled away with the ever-diminishing worshippers. By the time it was Reimu’s turn, it was all but dormant.

“When I found out that it was really as simple as that,” Reimu’s face faded back into Marisa’s view. It’d grown hazy as the thoughts of the Barrier and the God flooded her brain. “That it was just as obvious as maintaining the Barrier forever- well. I couldn’t let it happen to anyone else. I had to stop it. And that’s why you’re here. I tricked you.”

“What?” Marisa shook her head. She hadn’t been tricked, not at all. She’d come here of her own volition, and-

“You can’t lock a God in a room,” Reimu shook her head. “Not one without a body. We tricked you. It was never trapped. All of this was so you could come here and bring it to the Barrier. And then, it’ll be over. Well, this graveyard will be over. I had to set things up the way that I did, or else Yukari would’ve put a stop to everything. Because she wants stability, even if it hurts her too.”

“I don’t understand- why would you have to do that? If you’d just told me or left me a note I’d have done it! Whatever you’d left for me I’d have followed it to the letter.”

“I did! You didn’t even open the diary, and it was sealed so only you could open it! Do you really think I didn’t try and come up with an easier way? But I know you, and I knew you wouldn’t want to open it. And it doesn’t matter, because you did it anyway. Exactly what I wanted.”

“Was that it? Is that my only use?”

“No. I wanted to say goodbye properly. I wanted it to be you. You had to be the one to save me this time. For the last time.”

“…I really should kick your ass. Maybe in the next life.”

“Maybe. I don’t know if I’ll be eligible for reincarnation. We’ll have to see once the God finishes it’s part of the plan.”

“Huh? What, you-you’re really being burnt up right now?”

Reimu didn’t look like she was in any sort of pain, she just looked like her usual self. Was that really how she looked though? Was this not just an illusion conjured up the Barrier to give a face to what was just a soul blazing away in a furnace?

“I am. And you would be too, if it weren’t for the God and I. We’re going to do the right thing.”

I’m choosing to die. The contract is only valid as long as I live.

“You know what I told you, right?” Reimu’s face was mischievous, grinning ear to ear in a way that was infectious. “Ages ago? Japanese Gods can split into as many versions of themselves as they want, and all of them maintain the same amount of power. So, if a God split itself infinitely, how much power would that split generate and how long would it power… a huge, thinking Barrier?”

Oh.

And if people continued to believe in it, the power of those splits would only grow. The power burning up inside the Barrier would be massive- more than the potential that a soul ripped from its body before it’s time would ever hold. It would be a huge spike of power. One that could potentially sustain for a long, long time if not forever. Or it would explode. Ah, the burning at the back of her neck suddenly began to make so much more sense.

Marisa started laughing. The God being in her head really was good for something. People really did believe in it again. It was on people’s minds. It was thought of now more than ever before. The process had already started, and when people heard about how it sacrificed itself for the sake of the Barrier and the Hakurei Shrine Maidens- it’s power would only grow.

“You’re crazy,” she grabbed a hold of Reimu’s hands and squeezed them tightly. “You’re really crazy. If this works- I dunno. I just don’t know.”

Reimu squeezed back, and that burning sensation flared. “This is goodbye, you know. Maybe forever. We might never meet again, not even in another life. So, I want you to hear it before I don’t have a chance to say it ever again. I love you. And no matter what happens, things are going to be okay.”

“I love you too,” when had she started crying? Maybe she’d been crying this whole time. The tears warped Reimu’s lovely, sad face and it became hard to keep her eyes open. She had to, she had to force them back open- just for one last clear glimpse. A hundred sentences sat on her lips and she couldn’t force them out. The air around her became thick again, the burning sensation fizzled and crackled upon her neck. A bright light that sounds like glass shattering, a song that looks like an ocean- something that felt like a shove.

And then, everything was gone.

Chapter Text

Years ago, Reimu had a dream. It recurred often throughout her life. The first had been a year or so since her mother had passed and the guilt and memory laid fresh in her mind. She’d all but given up on sleep, choosing to stay up for hours doing nothing but keeping herself busy. Chanting, writing out lists of things she could see- whatever would keep her awake for as long as possible. Her body seemed to have had enough of her, and one humid, hot summer’s night she collapsed on her porch.

When her eyes opened she wasn’t on her porch anymore. Rather, she was nowhere. Standing up from her position on the ground of nowhere, she noticed that before her stood two women. One of whom she had never gazed upon in her life before, and the other was her mother. Instantly, she chased after them. It was her, wasn’t it? She’d come back! To look after her, to keep guiding her- that was what she was here for! But no matter how fast she ran she couldn’t reach them. They stood off in the distance, smiling kindly. It wasn’t fair. Reimu was only young, and her legs were short and she had little to no stamina built up. Like the beautiful expanse behind the Shrine, they were within sight but impossible to reach.

She’d woken up and cried hysterically. How? How could she get closer? There had to be a way. Perhaps, if she got closer, she’d be able to grab onto her mother’s arm and pull her back into reality when the dream ended. It was ridiculous. It’d never work.

As she grew older, the dream changed. Her age was reflected in her speed and ability. Each time she would get closer, close enough to make out more details of both of the women present. Closer and closer she drew, and by the time she had ended up in the Barrier she’d almost been able to reach out and touch them.

Here she was now, in that dream again. It was different again. This time, she knew she didn’t have to run. She could walk, and so she did. At the end of a walk that took a lifetime but in reality only took a minute or two, she fell into the open arms of her mother. It was wonderful, and it was warm. A hand reached out to pat her head, belonging to the mysterious woman that Reimu didn’t recognise. It was a gentle feeling, so Reimu wasn’t scared. This was home, and it was family.

Marisa awoke in a dark room on top of a rather uncomfortable bed. Something was distinctly stuck in her left arm, and the only light in the room came from under what appeared to be the only door. There were curtains on a window, but they were drawn closed, and as her eyes adjusted more to the darkness she could also tell that there wasn’t a soul in there except for her. Her head throbbed, and she hissed in pain as a flood of memories and sensations overwhelmed her. Where was she? How much time had passed? Had it gone right, or wrong, or…?

Whatever. If anything was clear, it was that laying around in this bed wasn’t going to provide her with any answers. She roughly wrenched free what had been stuck in her arm (some kind of needle with a tube attached) and swung her legs off of the bed-

Only to fall straight on her face. A loud buzzer went off in response to the impact, and Marisa lay prone on the floor, regretting the decision. Maybe she should’ve kept the needle in. Her body felt heavy and hard to move, as though she herself was awake but her limbs were stuck in a deep slumber. Every movement felt like wading through quicksand and eventually she just gave up on finding the strength to pull herself to her feet and laid there. It was marginally less comfortable than the bed, so really it wasn’t that bad. She laid there for what must not have been very long but felt to her like an hour, before a familiar rabbit burst through the door, panting heavily like she’d ran a mile.

“You’re awake?” Reisen gasped, and then shook her head vehemently upon realising her patient was on the floor. “Why did you get out of bed? You’re not fit enough to be doing that yet.”

“Can you get me off of the floor before you start lecturin’ me?” Marisa’s voice was raspy and weak, so what was meant to be a bark came across more like a whimper muffled by the floor. “Seems like medical service on the moon must’ve worked different.”

Reisen didn’t protest, and quickly she hoisted Marisa into her arms and settled her back into bed. The fall hadn’t caused any lasting damage apparently, and Reisen merely inserted a new needle (that stung badly, but at least it was in the other arm this time) before floating out of the room again before Marisa could ask her any questions. So, she lay there alone again and simply waited.

If Reisen was here, this was surely Eintei. Logically speaking, if this was Eintei, she was in Gensokyo. Therefore…

Tears dribbled from her eyes and onto the stiff white sheet that covered her, and once again Marisa wept. At least no-one was here to see it, or hear it, and there was no-one to pity her. Everything… had worked itself out, all at the cost of the one person Marisa hadn’t ever expected to lose. In a way, she was grateful. Things within Gensokyo could settle themselves and finally everyone could move on from this, including herself. No more the maidens maintain the Barrier eternally. She supposed Reimu would be the final Eternal Shrine Maiden. Which was funny, in a horrible and morbid way. She was just one of many so-called Eternal Shrine Maidens.

At the same time, she sat wracked with fury and guilt. She was mad, although she felt like she shouldn’t be, at Reimu’s antics. Would it have been so hard to be forthcoming about all of this? Did it have to be a secret? Couldn’t Marisa have known even a small amount? And what did it mean that Reimu didn’t just speak openly with her about it and instead had to hide those words in a sealed diary. She was pissed with herself too, for being so blinded by her motivation she couldn’t open her eyes and just look at it.

She was still alive, though. That was what mattered. Her mistakes and missteps didn’t stop her. In fact, thinking about them only emboldened her.

The door swung open again, and Marisa hastily rubbed her tears away. Light flooded the room as Eirin cast some kind of spell, and they were face to face in the cramped hospital room.

“I see you’re awake and you’re lively,” she hummed, and Marisa noticed she was looking at a bound stack of papers in her hand. “It’s 4am, you know. I certainly wasn’t expecting you to wake up so early, but I also was expecting you up sooner than this.”

“What do you mean?” Marisa grumbled, sniffling. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She just wanted to go home.

“…Do you remember anything after going to the Shrine?” Eirin scribbled something down on the paper, frowning slightly. Well, Marisa didn’t remember anything after the bright light hit her. She must’ve passed out after that. So, she shook her head and Eirin sighed. “You’ve been asleep for a long time. About a month. It’s a new year already. That’s why it’s been difficult for you to move, you’re going to have to get used to walking again.”

Ah. A month.

“I can’t leave?”

“Not until you can walk properly again. It’ll take a bit, but not too long with my medicine. When you were brought here, you were physically exhausted and obviously worn out, but you’ve suffered no lasting injuries. You’ll recover quickly and will leave soon after we get you back on your feet.”

She wanted out. Now. There was too much to do, and too much to ask about. She wanted to see Alice again and let her know she was okay. Yukari had some explaining to do. Sanae and Rinnosuke-

She’d slept through New Years. It was stupid, but Marisa almost felt like crying again. She went non-responsive as Eirin began explaining the treatment plan she’d designed. Who cared? Instead, she replayed the memory of that time in the Barrier in her mind, over and over again, until Eirin’s voice was distant and her eyes grew heavy once again.

It was just another day in Gensokyo. Marisa woke up, as she always did at the start of the week, in her dingy little cottage. Even after all these years, she still hadn’t grown any more skilled at cleaning up after herself. Alice, who had the lifespan to challenge futility, would still come over every so often to tidy it to the best of her ability before promptly giving up. So, as with every morning she spent in this hovel, she had to push papers and books off of her to get out of bed and dig around in her drawers for clean clothes. She wasn’t to have breakfast here, because she had made a promise to eat at the Shrine today. It was the little Shrine Maiden’s 10th birthday.

Had it really been so long already? Marisa let out a sigh as she pulled on her boots. It felt like yesterday that Yukari was shaking her awake, pushing a tiny body into her arms.

She’d asked her who’s child she was, and Yukari refused to answer. She was the Hakurei’s child now, and that was that. Marisa didn’t quite like that answer and so began a vicious argument that lasted hours until both of their voices were hoarse. When Marisa had finally gotten an answer out of her, she rushed straight to the Village to speak to the girl’s birth parents. The door was slammed shut on her foot that she’d stuck between it and the frame as she begged them, nearly on her knees, to have some involvement with their daughter. Even visiting every so often, it didn’t matter. Not because Marisa didn’t want to look after the girl, but because it just wasn’t right to tear her away from her family like Yukari had done so often with so many. No, they had said. And the door was closed for good.

“I take it your efforts have been fruitless?” Yukari sat, smugly, at the table of the Shrine with the babe in her arms. “You shouldn’t be surprised.”

“How can they still think the name is cursed?” Marisa spat and then pointed accusingly at the youkai. “Why are you still doing this?”

“Even with the need for the Maidens to do their duty even in death resolved,” Yukari looked down at the girl with a coo in her voice. “Our world still needs for the Barrier to be maintained. Things can still poke it and attempt to break it. We need a Hakurei Shrine Maiden.”

“Was it all for nothing then?” Marisa spat, resisting the urge to wrench the child out of the old hag’s arms. “Did Reimu and the God concoct a plan that amounted to nothing?”

“Of course not,” Yukari smiled, and Marisa’s fury died a little as she watched it reach her eyes. They sparkled with an emotion she’d never seen in the youkai. “This girl will live. Live long. Longer than any of the girls before her. Nothing about the culture of Gensokyo will change in a day… but her life can help to do that. You have to help her live. Live like a human. I can teach much, but I can’t teach that. I’ve forgotten how to, if I ever knew at all.”

Well, Marisa was pretty good at being a human, so it had all worked out. She was so young at the time and really, she’d had no idea what to do with a baby. First, it had started off as just her and Yukari, but before long Alice had started pitching in, and Rinnosuke was seemingly omnipresent. Then, of course, Sanae had appeared desperate to help with her spiritual training and Marisa wasn’t going to say no. She supposed it really did take a village. Marisa had practically lived at the Shrine for the early years of the girl’s life, but it had taken too much of a toll on her to be away from her research and her little business. So, a deal was established with the Moriya Shrine, who’d lend Sanae to the Hakurei’s for half of the week to help train the little miko whilst Marisa got to do her own thing. What the terms were exactly was between Kanako and Yukari, and honestly Marisa preferred it that way.

It was a weird kind of co-parenting situation, but neither of them minded. Marisa still didn’t mind. Trying to be a good role-model was hard, and she knew she was by no means a good one. It’d opened her eyes to how well Rinnosuke had done in place of her own parents and made her aware of how much better she was than them by comparison. She wasn’t really mother material, and never had expected to be, but she felt like a good guardian.

When she looked at the little shrine maiden, she wondered: “what if Reimu got to experience this?”

It was hard, even after so long, not to wonder how much different the previous Shrine Maidens lives would’ve been. The miko was now around the same age that Marisa had once met Reimu, and the difference between them was so jarring. Reimu had been so quiet and reserved, and as Marisa found out right up until her death, incredibly sheltered. She’d had no friends and was left with no family. All she had was Yukari, Rinnosuke and Marisa. The little girl that had taken up her place was nothing like that. She was even attending school, where she had made a few friends her age thanks to Keine’s insistence that she do so (even if the Village higher-ups had said no). It was nice, even though it was sad in many ways, to watch her have so many opportunities that Reimu hadn’t been afforded.

But that was sort of the point, at least to Marisa. You know, it wasn’t just Reimu who’d suffered from ostracization from a young age. Marisa had seen herself in her struggles. Both of them were alienated and made to feel like others, so to be a part of creating a life for someone else that prevented them from ever encountering that terrible sinking feeling… it was something that she felt she could be proud of.

As she approached the Shrine, the little miko danced around the yard as Rinnosuke fiddled with some kind of music player he’d repaired on the porch. Some of Alice’s puppets danced to the music, and she sat smiling peacefully on the porch too, whilst Sanae bustled in and out with various little dishes of food. It was the middle of summer, and she was obviously harassed with the heat. Everyone else had gotten the easy job of just eating the food she prepared.

The little Shrine Maiden squealed in joy when she caught sight of Marisa, and quickly she was pulled up to the porch of the Shrine. Immediately there was a deluge of information pouring from the young girl’s mouth- had Marisa heard of this ‘record player’ thing before? Wasn’t it so strange looking? Ah, the music was nice though right? Look at Alice’s dolls dance! Sanae’s been cutting up so many fruits for everyone to eat- oh and Yukari-san said she’d be visiting later when the sun had set.

Sanae appeared, haggard, holding a plate of freshly cut watermelon and announcing she was “done with food until dinner” and everyone promptly took a piece to sit on the porch and do absolutely nothing.

…Not much had changed had it? Gensokyo was relatively the same. Marisa’s life was pretty different, as was everyone else’s, but really it hadn’t changed on a basic level. She still spent most of her time at the Shrine, she still studied magic. The only real thing that had changed was that Reimu had gone, and even then it had been several years since that massive shift in Marisa’s day-to-day.

She wondered often if they would meet again. Maybe in another life, maybe in the afterlife… Marisa had no idea what was going to happen to Reimu’s soul. She had hope, though, that they would one day meet again. And even if they didn’t- that was okay too. Their time together was simple and precious. It couldn’t be replicated, Reimu had made as much obvious. It was special. If nothing else, Marisa could carry what she’d learnt from their time to her next life and try to be better for the people within it.

Now, though, she had to focus on the life she had already. It was still going, no matter where Reimu was. And it was challenging, and sometimes unfamiliar and frightening- but it was her’s. Plus, if Reimu wasn’t around to live through it with her, she’d just had to live enough for both of them.

“You always get teary around this time of year,” Alice whispered. Marisa wasn’t even aware she’d teared up at all.

“You’ve got it all wrong,” Marisa shrugged, winking as she took a bite out of her slice of watermelon. “It’s just seasonal allergies.”