Kasen stood on a ridge, viewing the breadth of Gensokyo below: the Human Village, the Myouren Temple, the Bamboo Forest of the Lost, the Misty Lake, the Scarlet Devil Mansion, and Hakurei Shrine. Between the village edge and the youkai-occupied areas, there were countless farm plots ripe for the harvest. Humans scurried around, heading towards venues for the moon viewing ceremony. Moriya Shrine, Myouren Temple, the Hourai Pharmacy, and the Hakurei Shrine were all hosting events this year. Everyone—except for the Pharmacy—went all out trying to one-up one another. She had left Reimu to Aunn, but felt a mote of pride for her, nonetheless. In contrast with the bombast of the Moriya Shrine and Myouren Temple, Reimu had adopted an approach of similar austerity to the Hourai Pharmacy, albeit with more alcohol.

The Pharmacy was in the lead this year, but Reimu had earned the Hakurei Shrine a respectable second place. Kasen allowed herself a deep intake of breath, tasting the chill night air, listening to the rustling of the leaves, letting the corners of her mouth rise into a modest smile. She decided she'd have to congratulate Reimu later.

"Enjoying the harvest?"

Kasen stood unfazed as Komachi's scythe pressed against her neck, its cold steel hugging her skin. She turned to the shinigami. Komachi lounged in the air, her scythe held awkwardly, reaching around Kasen's neck. Distantly, both of them noted the black birds watching from the treeline.

"Komachi, does Eiki know you're here?"

The shinigami removed her scythe from around Kasen's neck. "Nope."

"Well, then." Kasen paused, letting her smile stretch wider as she looked at the Hakurei Shrine, "I'm happy how the moon viewing festival turned out for Reimu. She hasn't gotten into a fight, carried away, and there wasn't an Incident. Even if attendance could be better."

"Sounds like things turned out all right." Komachi landed beside her. Kasen half-chuckled, not entirely sure if she was joking. "Anything else happening?"

"No, it's been peaceful since the last incident." Kasen scanned the shrine grounds, spotting the new arrivals from the recent incident. Reimu sat with them and Marisa, drinking and talking.

"Yeah, glad the Ministry didn't have to step in. Eiki and that annoying Zanmu lady had some plans if you guys didn't end up solving it, but Reimu and Marisa ended up cleaning the incident up pretty nicely." Kasen nodded absent-mindedly. She hadn't met Zanmu in person, but from what Aunn and Reimu said, she was troublesome.

"They should have told me." Kasen still felt sore about that, especially Yukari's solution. Reimu and Marisa still had those incident stones; Kasen didn't think it was a bad thing. However, the girls having the stones excited Okina.

"Would you have done anything about it?"

Kasen huffed and crossed her arms. "Nothing, but it's the principle." She raised a finger as she recited her lecture. "We're supposed to lead Gensokyo together. Instead, they go off and do whatever they want, causing incidents and–"

"Why don't you cause an incident yourself then? Be a little selfish, nobody's stopping you." Among the trees, black birds flapped their wings, feathers rustling. Komachi locked eyes with one for a moment before turning away.

Kasen folded her arms. "No. I have to be better than them; somebody has to set an example. Besides, there isn't anything I want that's worth causing an incident over." Kasen shook her head and looked towards the forest. The birds were watching them. Kasen thought it would be troublesome to speak openly.

Kasen could tell as Komachi crept closer–her scythe gleaming in the moonlight–that she had the same idea. "Are you sure? Just think about it. Are you sure there isn't anything you want that'd make you risk Gensokyo peace for?"

"Well–" Kasen closed her eyes. There was that project she had been working on, but then she thought of a familiar face, "–There is someone I'd like to meet again, but I won't cross the Ministry. I'm sure I'll find her eventually; she is a human." Kasen let the feeling roll over her, a quiet melancholy. Humans died and reincarnated all the time, but she was sure she'd meet Yoshika again.

Komachi shrugged. "Anything else? If you don't, I can always talk about who I met on my last trip."

"Please, no," Kasen rubbed the fingers of her prosthetic bandage-arm against each other as she mulled it over. Her project wasn't exactly bad or incident-worthy. She caught the black birds brazenly leaning forward. There were still their stalkers. "I have this one thing, follow me." Kasen fully turned away and walked towards the forest. The birds scattered, and she reached forward, her hand parting the space in between the trees as a gate formed. She turned back to Komachi and outstretched her prosthetic hand, inviting her forward.

"Wow, you're almost like a real hermit! Guess that horned owl looking one had some effect on you after all."

"Komachi." Kasen gestured with her hand again.

"Fine, fine." Komachi took a step forward and took Kasen by the hand, "Now what do you want to show me?" They dipped into the gate and disappeared, leaving the clearing desolate of everything but the pallid gaze of the harvest moon.

---

"It's warm?" It was night in Kasen's senkai, but humidity hung in the air. She and Kasen had arrived at the edge of a sandy lake, its waters a gentle, bluish-green that dropped off into an abyss so deep it looked bottomless. Beyond them was Kasen's tiger Houso walking along the forested edge of her senkai, where a path cut through, leading to her mansion.

Kasen crouched down near the water and put her natural hand in, "Gensokyo lacks a tropical climate."

Komachi sat down next to Kasen, feeling the sand beneath their feet. "So, I'm not the only one who wants a vacation?"

"It's not that," Kasen stressed, pressing the fingers of her prosthetic hand together, "You see, we have temperate and cold zones, but no tropical zones. That means we're limited in what we can take in from the outside world. Gensokyo exists for what the outside world rejects. That includes extinct or endangered species. Even if Japan's climate becomes more tropical, that doesn't mean the situation is better for tropical species. For instance, part of the changing climate is the increase in water temperature and acidity that has caused coral destruction. This blue hole I made already has a connection to the outside world and a localized tropical environment. It's a proof of concept." Komachi could believe her; although its surface was calm, its abyssal blue promised depths deeper than the Sanzu River.

"So what, you're going to flood Gensokyo or something? Either way, a beach day sounds fun."

"Maybe, but that's extreme. But Gensokyo has to expand somehow as the human range increases. Breaking from the geography of the outside world would weaken our connection to it, but it's only natural. I think adding a coastal region on the edge of Gensokyo would help–the only problem is choosing which beach to copy, and then attaching that copied space to the edge."

"Ah, you've already put a lot of thought into this, haven't you?"

"I have been ever since the dandelion incident." Kasen had furrowed her brow as she looked at the edge of the barrier in the distance. "Now, there might be issues with introducing invasive species, so I'd have to copy the landscape first and then slowly build a contained, self-sufficient biosphere with species only native to Japan," Kasen ran her hand over her bandage-prosthetic arm, splaying out its palms and flexing its fingers, "But I could do it. Starting here, close this area off from the rest of my senkai and expand it–well, that would be the first step."

Kasen dipped her natural hand into the water. A tentacle emerged from the deep blue, reaching out to meet her. "Meet Yamata. He's a cryptid that was forced to the edges." Komachi sprang to her feet as even more tentacles reached out from the blue hole, wrapping around Kasen's hand.

Komachi looked down at the tentacles in disgust. "What exactly is he supposed to be?"

"A lusca, that means octopus shark. As in an octopus that's like a shark, not an octopus-shark, or a shark-octopus. It's a tropical species related to those snake gods the Kappa occasionally take care of." Yamata wriggled in agreement, its tentacles exploring the shore of the blue hole.

"Well, I'm sure they'll be happy about that."

Kasen ignored Komachi's backhanded comment, stroking the tentacle, causing the cryptid to release her from its grip. "Go along now, Yamata. I'll have something for you in the morning." The cryptid's tentacles retreated into the deep blue.

"Actually, that reminds me, I had this interesting passenger."

"Komachi–"

"No, come on, this one is interesting. No suicides or dead kids this time. I promise."

Kasen looked away. Her two eagles, Kume and Kanda, circled her and Komachi; there were no black birds in sight, and nobody else was in her senkai. Besides, she had already shut Komachi down once. "Fine."

Komachi pushed off the ground, falling onto and lounging in the air, hovering mid-fall. "Okay, so this guy was some robber, he accidentally killed some old lady, and got death row–"

"Komachi."

"Wait, a minute. Instead of getting hung here, he got tossed into a lake, and guess what was in there?"

Kasen perked up as she caught on to what Komachi was talking about. "A snake god?" There was a slight twinge of panic in her voice, but Komachi was deaf to it.

"Yep. I gotta say, even if they deny the existence of youkai, those humans from the outside world still got it; Making a mess of things as usual."

Kasen nodded. "I suppose some things never change." Even if they denied the existence of youkai, some of them knew the truth and would relentlessly seek to exploit youkai for their own purposes. "This really only furthers my point. Can you imagine what raising something like that in a human-controlled environment will do? They certainly don't, and neither do I. Humans can accidentally domesticate plants and animals; the same principle applies to youkai. Now there are some out there trying to do it on purpose." Kasen shook her head as her tone grew more worried.

"Uh, isn't that what you're trying to do here, or in Gensokyo? Make more human-like youkai, a lot of the youkai I see here are barely like the ones from the outside world."

Kasen rolled her eyes. She had heard more or less the same thing from Reimu–albeit as a complaint, somehow. "No, what they're doing is worse. They aren't trying to reduce their aggression towards humans. Can you imagine a cryptid adapted to better fit in with modern humanity but without more passive behavior? I'll have to talk to the others about this. As a hermit and a sage, it's my job to–"

"That's nice, Kasen, but there's still moon viewing festivals going on tonight: I'd like to attend one before I have to go." Komachi looked up at the sky, trying to spy the moon through the cloud-thin covering over Kasen's senkai that blocked the gaze of the moon.

Kasen lifted a finger, rearing for another lecture, but the look on Komachi's face stopped her. "Right, thanks for the idea anyway. I guess Gensokyo will end up having an unseasonably warm winter this year." Kasen moved from her crouch to a sitting position, laying her legs into the warm water of the lake. "Would the Ministry do anything? About Gensokyo or the snake god."

"Just for your information, no." Komachi rolled her eyes. Even when Kasen was planning an incident, she was an insistent rule follower. "Although they are cautious about Gensokyo becoming too disconnected from the outside world. For the snake god, I'd say an even bigger no. We deal with dead humans, not living ones."

Kasen nodded. "Either way, there's only so much that can be done. Gensokyo is a controlled ecosystem; if the outside world becomes an existential threat, no matter the circumstance, the connection will have to be weakened. We already have contact with the outside world; the only reason we have no ecological problems is because of our efforts." Komachi rolled her eyes, imagining the sages standing side by side with Kasen at this moment. "And if humans make threats like that in Japan, we'll have to clean up those mistakes as well." She at least felt a little lucky it was a snake god, and not anything with higher cognition.

"Well, I guess for both cases we'll come to that eventually." Komachi shrugged. Kasen agreed: the current status quo had only existed for less than a thousand years. A small amount of time in the grand scheme of human history. "You know how humans are–they never live long enough to suffer the consequences of their actions, so they just end up making a mess of things and killing each other."

"Yes, 'Eventually'," Kasen rubbed the fingers of her prosthetic arm against each other, "That's the favorite excuse of humans, isn't it?"

Komachi's pink hair swayed in the warm breeze. "Beginning to see the light about them?"

"Don't be silly. Protecting Gensokyo is one thing, but I won't give up on humanity. It's in their nature to better understand how to use the world to their benefit more so than to understand the consequences of their actions or themselves."

"Well, even if they don't reap what they sow in life–" Komachi stood and swung her scythe through the air, "–The Ministry will make sure they suffer the consequences of their actions in death. However, they have been getting better at avoiding it lately. It's a bit silly, don't you think?"

Kasen dusted the sand from her clothes as she rose. "It's only natural. They aren't shinigami."

Komachi laughed and flipped herself back over, her scythe singing as it cut through the air. "On the upside, they might eventually live long enough to suffer properly. If they don't kill themselves, that is. I've been getting so many suicides lately. Just the other day this–"

"You know how I feel about your topics of conversation." Kasen shook her head. "We should go to the shrine. I want to see Reimu, and I should tell the others about this."

"Lead the way."

Kasen obliged and opened a gate from her senkai to the backyard of the Hakurei Shrine. The moon's gaze illuminated the shrine as black birds hid in the trees, observing the Hakurei Shrine Maiden, her guests, and the festivities. Behind the shrine, a trio of fairies plotted amongst each other, huddling together. Then, as space folded, and the two entered the backyard, the fairies called out:

"Look! It's the hermit."

"And she brought a ghost!"

"Run!"

The three fairies vanished over the shrine's roof, leaving Komachi and Kasen alone. "It seems the fairies are as scared of us as ever." They could hear the festivities on the other side of the shrine, murmuring voices and an unseasonable warmth in the air borne of so many people in one place.

"Why should we care what they think?" As Komachi spoke, both of them could hear the childish screeching of the fairies on the other side of the shrine.

"So you're still jealous that Eiki is more popular with them?" Komachi's grip on her scythe tightened; she vividly remembered that incident years ago, where the fairies dressed up like Eiki, all the while ignoring or fleeing from her.

"She used to be a Jizo, of course, she's popular with them. Jizo and fairies are too similar for them to dislike each other. It's just common sense."

Kasen chuckled. She might as well have said, 'Well, Yamawaro and Kappa are so similar, why don't they get along?'. She walked up the steps to the shrine's back porch. "Really? There's been this Jizo in the forest of magic, all the fairies are terrified of her."

Komachi followed Kasen up the steps, "Well, maybe they just have foul taste, I'm wonderful."

Kasen remembered Reimu's stories of that incident. She reached to open the shrine's back door. Before she could grasp its handle, the door flew open, slamming against the frame. "What are you two doing here?" Reimu drunkenly scowled at the duo, one hand on her hip.

"We just came to enjoy the moon viewing," Kasen said.

"Well, next time, don't pop out of nowhere. If you want to join, come the normal way like everybody else."

"I will, I will," Kasen said.

Reimu nodded and returned inside, leaving the door open. The two followed her, passing through the shrine and onto the front porch, the sound of revelry welcoming them. She walked over to the new arrivals from the recent incident. They waved to her, only giving a passing glance as Komachi and Kasen stepped off the porch.

Kasen looked over the yard of the Hakurei Shrine, where the usual guests were in attendance, sprawled among picnic blankets, benches, and tables. Among them were the Scarlet Devil Mansion, residents from the Palace of Earth Spirits, the Yorigami sisters, Mizuchi, and Aunn sat next to each other, then Suika, as well as miscellaneous local youkai she couldn't name, some phantoms from the netherworld, and a smattering of human villagers. All gathered into their own cliques.

Suika waved over to Kasen from the gathering of humans that surrounded her. Kasen pointedly ignored them. At the farthest edges of the party, Kasen's gaze caught on Okina, Yukari, and Yuyuko, seated around a table while their servants watched over them. "Give me a minute." Kasen left Komachi and the front porch, crossing her arms as she approached her fellow sages. The two greeted her with smiles, and Komachi resigned herself to waiting for Kasen to return.

The other guests, youkai and human, gave Okina, Yuyuko, and–the plumper than usual–Yukari a wide berth as Yukari dined on the food and sweets before her, and Okina read under the shade of a parasol. The density of black birds increased along the forest that faced them, although neither of the sages paid them any mind as Yukari ate and Okina talked to her and their servants. As she approached, Yukari flexed a finger, forming a soundproof barrier. Between Yukari and Okina, Yuyuko smiled kindly at Kasen while helping herself to the tray of sweets.

"You two!" Kasen held out a hand, pointing towards both of them rapidly while she ignored Yuyuko.

"Sweet potato?" Yukari offered. Next to her, Yuyuko chuckled, and Youmu followed suit tentatively, looking lost.

Kasen pushed the potato away, pointedly refusing to look at the plates of sweets that Yuyuko was still eating from. "No! You won't bribe me this time."

"This time?" Okina said. Beside her, her two servants gave Kasen sly looks.

"No. I'm not engaging with your nonsense, I have something important to say..." Kasen launched into her explanation about what Komachi had said to her. She quickly brought Yukari, Ran, and Okina's servants to attention–even if Okina's looked like they only understood every other word. Okina was unaffected as she opened her book again. Yuyuko and Youmu were like Okina: one uncaring, the other not understanding.

"My, my. Those humans, always getting up to trouble," Okina said, mirth dripping from her voice. "Do they really want to speed up the extinction of their species that fast?"

Yukari nodded, but didn't respond to Okina's mockery as she turned to Ran. "Deal with that. I'm going into hibernation tomorrow."

"Yes, Mistress Yukari." Ran bowed and took a step back, disappearing through a gap in space. In her absence, Kasen crossed her arms and gave the two sages a long, hard stare. Between the Sages, Youmu tensed up, unsure of what to do.

"Kasen," Yuyuko said, "I don't mind you giving these two a lecture, but you're making poor Youmu here uncomfortable." The half-phantom followed her master up by giving an unwarranted apology, but just as Kasen relaxed her gaze to apologize, Okina spoke.

"Well, you came here for more than this, didn't you? Youmu won't understand what you're trying to say anyway, so there's no harm in telling us. After all, I suspect that I'm not the only one who has or is going to cause an incident, am I correct?"

Kasen flinched back; she could feel the embarrassment as her eyes narrowed at Okina. Yukari spoke before she could: "Really, how could you tell?"

Okina puffed out her chest and posed. "I am a god of secrets, after all." Her servants followed her lead, striking a pose behind her. Kasen read her tone. Okina hadn't known; Kasen had fallen for one of the first tricks in the book.

"You two." Kasen's prosthetic arm twitched; she felt herself being dragged into their nonsense again. "We're being watched right now." Just outside the range of Yukari's barrier, the black birds fluttered their wings, and the gaze of the moon intensified.

Okina smiled like a Buddha as her red and green aura flared. "Let them read our lips, after all, it will make their despair even sweeter." Okina opened her book again. "Kasen, have you read this book before, 'The Three-Body Problem'?"

"Only you would talk like that after our last incident," Yukari said, "This is just like that time–"

"You don't get to complain," Okina said, "You are the one who commissioned the creation of those incident stones." The secret god clapped her hands together as her smile widened. "They'll make wonderful weapons against the Lunarians." She then placed a hand to her chin. "That reminds me, Reimu had that idea about using dear Flandre against them, didn't she? I'm sure some others would appreciate her input."

Kasen fumed, "I already talked to her about that article. Now you two see here, as sages–"

>>3341

---

As the night dragged on, Kasen launched into another lecture. Komachi claimed a platter of food, a gourd of sake, and a spot on the porch. Everyone else gave her a wide berth, but she didn't mind. Then, as she finally settled in to view the moon, space bent, and a chill wind brushed against her face. "Hello, Miss Shinigami, slacking off as usual?" The voice was even, without inflection, betraying no emotion.

"Ah," Komachi recognized the voice, "You're that maid from back then. How's it been?" Komachi kept her gaze on the moon.

"Good, although we haven't had another flower incident yet. I enjoyed those flowers."

"Well, it hasn't been sixty years." Komachi glanced back over to Kasen and her companions. She still couldn't hear anything; she could see Yuyuko now arguing back, and Youmu wilting behind her. Okina had put her book down, fully enjoying the argument.

"Hasn't it? It's a shame, I'd like to see those flowers again." Komachi saw the maid lean against the railing of the porch next to her, a glass of wine in her hand. The first half of her sentence sounded like a joke, but Komachi couldn't tell.

"That's easy for you to say. You're not the one who has to clean it all up and usher the souls on their way. At least some of them make good conversation partners, especially the psycho killers. The infants and young ones have no good conversation topics."

"Really, the psycho killers?" Sakuya's tone was odd; rehearsed, teacher-like.

Komachi perked up, "Yeah. They're easy to spot; so excitable, always trying to make excuses for themselves. It's pretty funny seeing them smacked down, way better than the ones who committed suicide; they're always so down on themselves. There are only so many times you can listen to a self-pitying monologue, especially from those who have living relatives. You don't know how many times I've heard people cry about the mother, child, brother, or whoever they left alone."

"That's harsh. Isn't it?" There was a hint of inflection to her voice this time, but Komachi couldn't pin the emotion down.

"That's funny for you to say, psycho killer."

"I butcher human corpses as part of my profession; I take no particular joy in it either way. Neither do I give any thought to killing." As before: Her voice wasn't cold, harsh, or kind. It was excitingly even, lacking any inflection and expressing nothing but the literal meanings of the words. Komachi idly wondered: Sakuya might have trouble expressing herself, she might do it for dramatic effect, or those were her true feelings. Komachi decided it was the last option.

"Is that better? Even if you don't care, you're still killing people and butchering their bodies." Komachi looked out at the gaggle of humans who drunkenly talked to Suika. A few of the phantoms that followed Yuyuko had joined their conversation.

Sakuya nodded. "I took your master's words to heart; sometimes all that can be done is preventing somebody from meeting their sentence in hell. After all, my mistresses require humans as food, and the younger one has no stomach for butchering corpses."

"They'd survive without you, y'know? Same thing about the rest of that mansion's staff, I'm sure those girls can take care of themselves. So it's not like that absolves you of anything."

Komachi could feel Sakuya's gaze. "It does not, but I'm not trying to justify my actions."

Komachi shrugged. She wondered how long a sentence a dead Lunarian would get. "Either way, I guess there are worse reasons. I've certainly heard my fair share, you know, just the other day I–"

"SAKUUUUYAAA!" Remilia's voice cut through the festivities as she stood up in her highchair, waving at the pair. In Sakuya's absence, Alice had joined the SDM staff. Both of the witches and Koakuma had books open, comparing the contents. Komachi couldn't hope to guess what their argument was about.

"Apologies, but my Mistress needs me and I won't be entertaining such topics around her. They're poor for her education." Komachi nodded, but Sakuya had already vanished. She had already returned to her mistress.

"Well, I'll see you in hell."

In her absence, Komachi turned her attention to the conversation between the sages as it grew animated. Several others were staring now as well, their conversations lapsing into silence. Soon, then, Reimu went over to send Yukari and Okina off, with Yuyuko and Youmu following Yukari. Kasen stayed and claimed a gourd of sake and a picnic blanket before waving Komachi over.

Komachi rolled her eyes at her theatrics and joined her, ignoring the rest of the party. "Well, it's been nice spending my moon viewing here this year. Are you going to be here next year, or will you be busy?"

"Maybe. I've been wanting to hold one in my senkai–" Kasen looked at the moon, its silvery gaze illuminating the party where youkai. Beings cast out of the outside world partied and mingled with humans. "–But it's nice being able to see a scene like this."

Komachi followed her gaze, looking over assorted youkai and humans as the festivities died down. She was ambivalent. "Looks like you'll have to put some effort into making yourself approachable then."

Kasen looked over to a gathering of humans who were looking at the two of them out of the corner of their eyes. "Maybe the shinigami I've been spending my evening with is scaring them all off?" As she spoke, the humans flinched and tried their best to look occupied.

"It's those two you've been spending so much time with," Komachi said, gesturing to the now-empty space where the sages had been, "leaving me with the maid. Actually, speaking of work, are you going to tell Reimu about–" Komachi's eyes darted to the birds watching the party, and then to Reimu as she drunkenly lay on top of Marisa while the incident stones lay haphazardly strewn around them, "–the thing, you know? You didn't even tell her how proud you were."

Kasen's eye flitted over to where Reimu was, drunkenly and animatedly talking to the two new gods, "Well, it wouldn't be exciting for her if I tell her now, would it? Besides, I'm sure Reimu understands how I feel."

"Ha! Guess you'll be reaping what you'll sow in a bit, won't you?" Komachi poked Kasen with her elbow, earning her an annoyed grunt from the hermit.

Kasen crossed her arms, "Don't you have a harvest of your own?"

Komachi let loose a long sigh as she turned away from Kasen and got up from the blanket. "Do I have to? The busy season just started, and I don't feel like going to work." She slung her scythe over her shoulders and spun on her heel so that she was facing Kasen. "Do you want to get rid of me that quickly?"

"I'm not the one you have to be worried about; your master arrived here before you did, she's looking for you."

Komachi looked like she had tasted something bitter, "Well, if she's been looking for me all this time, I'd better go find her; avoiding her will just lengthen my inevitable lecture. Just be thankful the Ministry is filled with people like me; the world would be a quiet place if everyone worked like Eiki." The party had thinned out even further, and now there was almost no one around–except for the black birds–to hear them.

"It would be quiet if everyone in the ministry were a hard worker, but there's nothing wrong with being a hard worker." Kasen saw the birds nod at her comment and rolled her eyes; the Lunarians were being rather obvious with their spying.

"Says you," Komachi stuck her tongue out at Kasen, pushed off the ground, and floated into the air. "See you later. I have to go."

Kasen smiled up at her. "Happy harvesting. I hope you don't have too much work this year."

Komachi smiled as she rose into the air. "I'd say the same to you!" Komachi's smile stretched even wider as she swung her scythe, disappearing with her parting words. "But it looks like you're going to be busy!"

Seiga opened the door to one of her bedrooms. The personal items of her tenant were violently strewn about, very much unlike how that neat freak usually was. Then again, more than a century had passed since they last saw each other. She was no longer the person Seiga once knew.

Or, rather, she was no longer a person.

Right next to the bed, chained by its neck to a wall, stood the living corpse of Miyako Yoshika. Although it would be hard for a layman to call it a corpse, as it was well preserved by its strange excess of yin, that same excess indicated a lack of yang incompatible with life, potentially due to some kind of damage to one or more of her higher souls. That, and she didn’t have a heartbeat. Its youthful face was a sign that her… unusual interest had led to at least some result, though it became apparent only after Seiga removed all signs of her savagery — trimmed her wild hair and long talons, filed her fangs back into a semblance of normal teeth, washed away the remains of the travellers that followed the rumours of an immortal poet living in isolation…

Seiga was no stranger in dealing with the unhallowed dead, yet Yoshika’s condition perplexed her. There didn't seem to be any intelligence behind her behaviour, and she lacked the common motivations. What notes she left indicated no potential grudges or unfinished business. She exhibited no signs of hatred or jealousy for the living in her brutality, even if it could be seen as such to an untrained eye. There wasn't a shred of her former self left in this shell. All that remained was the hunger for yang qi, often taken with the flesh of the living in the most direct way out of those conceived by her limited imagination. Even gaki were more personable. She just jumped on her ankles until she found some life force to consume, like some kind of hopping… mosquito? There had to be a better name for this state of being.

“Greetings to this generation’s finest.” Seiga greeted, as always, the same way she did the first time they met.

The only response of the wight was a soulless groan. It made the one hop its chain allowed in the direction of its current master, its arms stretched uselessly out for her.

“Glad to see you as well.” She added with humour that only the most perceptive of immortals would have called strained. There was no recognition in the corpse’s cloudy eyes — she was nothing but a source of yang qi to it.

With her being like this, the last connection Seiga had with the Imperial nobility was as good as gone. All the time and effort spent searching for the right people, spreading the right messages, laying groundwork for a new government… The hope of it all being done before the resurrection was now impossibly thin. What a waste.

No, that’s not the Tao. Nothing is ever wasted.

Even the rot of this soil may become a compost.

---

Noise. Door opened. Light. Too bright.

Known noise. “Greetings to this generation’s finest.”

Known shape. Life. Must have.

Tugging on neck. Hurt. Cannot have. Too far.

“Your neck is too stiff, Yoshika. You’ll get hurt. Let’s begin with stretching since we’re at it. Remember how I taught you, right, Yoshika? Slow and steady…”

Shape changed. Life moved. Head turned. Made a circle. Circle?

---

Only a month in and Seiga already started to lose hope. Yoshika stood as unmoving and uninterested as always, as she didn’t react to anything that wouldn’t result in her feeding on the living. No other kinds of positive reinforcement worked.

“Don’t you think you've looked enough? Repeat after me, Yoshika.” Seiga said, trying to encourage at least some response. The corpse gave her none.

The hermit shook her head with exasperation, taking a heavy breath. “You don't get a word, do you?” Yoshika began struggling against her chain again, agitated more by the breath reaching her than anything.

But still, Seiga hasn't given up yet. There was one thing left to try. Back when she was in training she had discovered a rather unorthodox way to perform the mundane job of an undertaker. Certain styles of writing fulu done in enchanted chicken blood had an unusual effect on the flow of qi in dead bodies. They could follow some simple instructions to perform tasks, up to going to their funeral on their own, even if it was in another province. It didn't turn out to be very popular, so she didn't give the technique much thought until recently, when she had to have Yoshika calm enough to get her dressed in something other than torn rags. One talisman with a command stuck on her forehead — and she was still as a statue.

With proper instructions, Yoshika could do anything Seiga told her to through these slips — maybe even guard the house. But as far as Seiga knew, she would do so with no actual understanding of the task, just a mindless puppet following commands. She wouldn’t do them as herself.

But… If she could force that understanding, invoke concepts she knew in life in the instructions…

“Maybe something more direct will do better for the time being.”

---

Life moved. Fast. Paper strip. Paper?-

+++Heavenly Decree: slowly turn head in a circle clockwise.+++

Clockwise? Unknown. Clock? Sun dial? Sun…

Obedience. Head down. Front. Head tilt. Right. Back. Left. Down and front. Circle made. Task complete.

Paper ripped. No task.

“Good, very good, Yoshika!”

More noise. Life noisy. Get life-

+++Heavenly Decree: receive praise.+++

Receive… Take from life? Hands empty. Praise…

…we hope that you will take your new duties with as much diligence as…

Down. Need to sit. Why? Need to bow. Why? Gratefulness. Why? Praise. Why? Gratefulness. Why? Praise. Why? Grate-

“Overflowing already?” Paper rip. “We’ll have to work on the limits of your memory. Otherwise, it’s a good start. Worthy of praise! Well done!”

Praise? Noise is praise?

Noise… good?

“Now, onto the next exercise.”

+++Heavenly Decree: lift right hand above head.+++

Obedience. Loud snap. Hurt.

“Yoshika! Oh, my, not so fast! I’ll go get the thread…”

---

Seiga, her hands full, pushed the door open with her foot. “Greetings to this generation’s finest!”

Yoshika’s excited groan greeted her back, with her hopping in front of the table near the center of the room. It was among the instructions written on her fulu, alongside ‘no biting the one in front’ and ‘try doing something with the items on the table’. She was getting much better at interpreting abstract concepts.

“I’ve got something new for you. Some nice things for you to play with!” She brought a kendama, a comb, a mirror, and the now ancient scroll, full of notes that Yoshika would find most familiar. Seiga brought the items up to Yoshika’s eye level so that she could see them better before carefully laying them down. “You remember them from before. You know, from before.”

Seiga had a feeling this session had promise of something special. The toy and the comb she had already seen, but the mirror and the scroll were new. Yoshika had began to excitedly grab the items like a toddler being handed something shiny.

---

More things. Must try things.

First one is wooden handle. Handle has cups. Handle has rope. Rope has ball. Put ball in cup. Cannot put ball in cup.

No need to have thing. Throw away.

Next thing. Cylinder of paper. Turn thing around. Paper protrudes.

Pull on paper. More paper protrudes. Paper has ink. Ink makes shapes. Shapes…

...This must be where the hermits disport themselves. As I heard, during the Shouwa era, pearls and jewels rolled down the mountain, each jewel with a little hole through it. These were probably the beautiful gems that once adorned the reed screen of a hermit’s cell…

Tongue moved. Made noise. Gems? Shouwa? Hermits? Too much.

Voice of life. “You’re doing great, Yoshika! I’m very pleased!” Life praises. Why?

Thing irrelevant. Put down.

Next thing. Yes. Strange need to have thing.

This side is prickly. Lots of small blunt spikes in line. Other side is smooth. Easy to grab and hold…

Head. Thing is for head. How? Need to bend elbow. Elbow will not bend.

Pressure on arm. Life poking behind shoulder. Shoulder is relaxed. Elbow is easy to bend. Life is… good? Gratitude.

Hand is near head. Thing is near head. No instructions. Move thing along head?

Stuck. Spikes get stuck on hair. Move thing more. Spikes move through hair. Thing is not for head. Thing is for… hair?

Voice of life. “Ah, see? I told you you’d remember, Yoshika! Well done!” Life praises. Good. Life grabs other thing from table. “This mirror will make brushing your hair with your new comb much easier.”

Life holds thing up. Window? Known shape in window. New life? No breath.

This window is mirror? Mirror is good for brushing hair? Brushing? Move thing in hair. Move comb in hair. Comb brushes hair.

Shape moved. Shape has comb. Shape has hair. Shape brushes hair with comb.

Brush hair right. Shape brushes hair right. Brush hair left. Shape brushes hair left. Brush hair down. Shape brushes hair-

…can’t be myself for even a second…

Shape brushes…

…can't be seen like this…

Brushes hair…

…else — exile…

Wind…

…else — execution…

Combs…

…else the dream will die…

Willow…

…else I will die…

I don't want to die.

---

Seiga couldn't be more glad. First Yoshika began reading the scroll, aloud, and now, after relearning how to comb her hair, she stood there, staring at the mirror. The implication got the hermit excited — she must have remembered something!

Her smile evaporated when she heard Yoshika's heart-rending wail. The comb went flying, as did all the items on the table, as did the table; Yoshika lashed out on everything within reach, screaming wildly, pathetically, like a grieving animal.

She must have remembered something alright.

Thinking quickly, Seiga put the mirror on a cupboard on her side of the room, then floated close to Yoshika, trying to smother her rage with a hug.

“It’s alright. No more mirrors.” Not until she was ready. “No more mirrors, see?”

When the screaming stopped, she backed away slightly to look at her pupil. There was no sorrow in her face anymore, and she let out a sigh of relief.

…Nor was there a fulu on her forehead. And Seiga had just exhaled into her face.

She had mere moments to steel herself before Yoshika held her arms in the vice grip of her claws, strong enough to crush bone. The hunger in her empty eyes blazed wildly…

But it lasted for only a few moments, before she released her left hand and began slowly and deliberately tracing the shape of Seiga’s hair, as if to give her the confirmation that her sight couldn’t.

The sound that escaped her mouth was unlike her usual mindless grunts. “Nganh… Nyan… Niang…”

It struck Seiga like lightning. “Yes… Yes, that's me! Niang Niang!”

“Seiga…” Yoshika said slowly, looking as if she had a revelation. “Seiga!”

Seiga couldn’t believe it. There truly was something inside Yoshika still! After all of her effort it was finally paying off!

---

Arrhythmic sounds of Yoshika beating a koto into submission could be heard all the way to Seiga’s kitchen. Making music seemed to have a calming effect on her, so she was left with an instrument to keep herself busy while her master prepared supper. A bit annoying, heaving to replace it every other week, but the effect it had on her was worth it. As for food the girl had an insatiable appetite, yet Seiga didn’t mind spoiling her rotten with double portions. It was a shame, however, that her favourite kind of meat was getting harder than ever to get. Damned Buddhist influence. And whose idea was it to call them in?

On her way to serve the feast, while coming to a turn in the corridor that would lead her to Yoshika’s room, Seiga caught herself having uncomfortably nostalgic thoughts of a time she had no fondness of. This whole ordeal was just too reminiscent of it. It only made sense. That accursed thief ought to have had no place in her memory, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t think fondly of her chi-

Seiga returned to reality as someone had shoved her hands behind her back. The part of the corridor she was in became dark as the lanterns in it suddenly went out. Before she could react, she felt herself being rapidly tied with some kind of bandage. Miraculously, she heard no pots clattering — while subduing her, the assailant seemed to hold on to the tray, balancing the entire multi-course meal with just one hand. That, as Seiga could tell from her silhouette, was her only arm; the bandage that tied her seemed to originate at her other arm’s stump. A curious accessory. The ambush, despite the obvious natural talent of her opponent, was rather amateurish, and her bonds were rather weak, but Seiga was dying to know what this mystery woman wanted from her.

“Tell me where you keep the prisoner and you won’t come to harm.” A young woman’s voice, authoritative, yet lacking in malice.

Could it be that there was another hermit in the area? After all, who else was there to actively go after her? No buddhist could ever get inside her senkai. “Prisoner? My servant’s quarters may look a bit ascetic, but that’s mostly her choice.”

“Is that what you like to call them?” She said with such disgust. Almost certainly some do-gooder on a self-righteous hunt.

“She’s not a disciple yet.” Seiga replied, her tone playful yet not lacking in sincerity. “But I trust she’ll be there in due time.”

A pause. The intruder shifted the tray slightly, likely to get a good look at it, using the tip of her bandage to check the contents of one of the pots. “Having a feast, are we? Made by your prisoner, no doubt?”

Seiga missed neither the insistent terminology nor that it was used in singular. Was she looking for someone specific? “Quite the opposite, I made it for Yoshika alone. Though I’m sure she’d share, were you invited.”

A chuckle one note too bitter reached Seiga’s ears. That was it. “I see. You’ve been breaking her, feeding her long pork-”

“Oh, please. She much prefers the shorter kind. Do you know how hard it is to get in this country? Not a single pig farm!“ Seiga complained like a bazaar crone of a similar age.

The intruder made an incredulous huff at her words, but did lean in take a sniff of the food. Having lost the argument on the source of the meat, she seemed stumped. Or was her hesitation something else? After all, it seemed likely that she was new to her status…

“I’ve got some baozi here, you want some?”

The uninvited guest straightened just a bit too quickly. Seiga felt the bandage tighten around her neck. “Did you seriously think I’d fall for that?”

“Oh no, my plan is foiled~” The ‘wicked’ hermit exclaimed in mock defeat. “I suppose I have no choice now but to show you the ‘prisoner’. Still, before we go, how did you get inside here?”

“Patience. You didn’t change the path too often.” Ah, how careless of her. She wasn’t as experienced as she presented herself — three hundred years is nothing for a hermit. Though the lack of any competition here leaving her without practice also did its job.

While all of this was going on, Seiga was paying close attention to Yoshika’s room. She stopped banging on the koto some time ago, and now there was some soft rhythmic tapping alongside quiet banging of metal against wood. “Wait, do you hear that?”

“Don’t try to-” She saw her assailant turn toward the bedroom. She did the same. “Is that…?”

At first she assumed that Yoshika was growing restless, but the sound grew closer with each repetition. Closer than the length of the chain would allow for.

Her arms went through the doorframe. The high threshold didn’t allow her to hop any further.

She hopped slightly backwards, then slowly lifted her left leg. She allowed herself to fall forward, landing on it. She steadily jerked to her left until she was half turned to them. Only now Seiga realised what she was trying to do — Yoshika couldn’t bend her knees just yet, so she positioned herself so that her legs wouldn’t catch onto the doorframe. With the final push of her right leg she was completely out of the room, facing the hermit and her guest.

Yoshika maneuvered her arm to proudly show off the broken chain, pieces of its links visible in her dopey smile. “Theighah!”

It took a moment for Seiga to shake off her surprise. “Clever girl.” She said with pride. “Do get that chain out of your teeth.” She told the undead girl, and she obliged, spitting the broken links onto the floor.

If Seiga was surprised, the intruder seemed completely frozen in shock, so Seiga freed her arms just enough to support her faltering grip on the food tray before it all plummeted to the ground. That must have shaken her out of this stupor, as Seiga heard her near soundless whisper. “What have you done…”

“The best I could. Look at her, figuring out the world around her. A century or two, and it'll be as if she never left us.” Seiga turned to her ‘pet’, addressing her in a sweet voice. “Don’t worry about me, dear. See? We have a guest!”

Yoshika, as Seiga had taught her, made an elegant and polite bow. Well, it would be, if she could bend her knees. Still, as is, she assumed it got the message across. “See? She’s making leaps and bounds! Not literally, she still only hops.”

“Is this what it all came down to? You teaching her corpse tricks?” The intruder’s voice was seeping with cold rage. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Suddenly, Yoshika, who had silently observed the argument, had her eyes wide open. She stared past Seiga, seemingly into the intruder’s soul. “Wind… combs… young willow… hair…”

Seiga looked excitedly at Yosika, then tried to see the guest’s reaction through the veil of darkness; though it proved impossible, she could tell that it got to her. “How wonderful! The sight of you has reminded her of an old poem of hers. Do you know that one?” There was no response from the intruder. In fact, it felt as if she stopped breathing. The air in the corridor felt cold as ice. “Why don’t you try to continue it?”

Seiga felt the bandages tying her loosen, as the intruder was clearly trying to comprehend what she was hearing. “You’re crazy. She's dead.” It was like she was trying to explain to her child that her dog wasn’t coming back. Clearly, she had completely given up on Yoshika’s recovery.

“Well, yes! You’d think us hermits would be a lot more open minded about this kind of thing.”

“Hermits? What are you-” The intruder let out a long, somewhat annoyed sigh. “Don’t give me that nonsense! Her soul has long since passed. You're just toying with her memory. End this…” She struggled on what to say next. “...Please.”

“And what would ‘ending this’ mean here? Leaving her like this? Or do you want me to kill her?” Seiga said almost sarcastically, putting no faith in the intruder actually going through with anything. These do-gooder types never do.

“I… You can’t…” The intruder’s breathing became more haggard. “I won’t leave her like this!”

“That’s good. I don’t intend on leaving her like this either.”

There was a moment of stillness between all three of them. The intruder kept turning her head between the hermit and the living dead, until eventually a quiet growl from her broke the silence. The bandages’ grip on Seiga had disappeared completely; they returned to the stump, the silhouette seemingly growing a new arm. “I’ll be watching you.” She said, then disappeared completely into the darkness of the corridor.

“Bye, come visit us anytime!” Seiga verbally sent her off, making a mental note to make the path to her senkai a touch more difficult next time. “What a strange hermit. Do you know her, Yoshika?”

The undead girl seemed to struggle with her thoughts. “No…? Yes…? Between…?”

“‘Maybe’. You're looking for ‘maybe’.”

“Yes… maybe…”

That didn’t help to narrow it down. Yoshika knew a lot of people in her life, including a few hermit candidates that didn’t pass the mark. “Well, that’s something to start with. Next time I’ll try to let you get a clearer view.” Might help clear up her memory, increase her progress.

Speaking of, Seiga turned to the important matter at hand. She stepped closer to Yoshika and snapped open her collar, letting the chain drop to the ground. Yoshika asked the silent question, and she answered. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t need this anymore.”

---

Tsukimi was always so bright. The day when the Moon could bless the harvest as much as the Sun did prior. The celebration of months of hard work turning into a lifebringing miracle…

No, that wasn’t right. I remember the very first time we celebrated it, the official one. It was the nobility who celebrated it at first, not the peasants. Only later did the common folk indulge in festivities, gorge on dango and chestnuts, have a day to enjoy life. Even the calendar had changed, nowadays the Moon on that date is still waxing ga…

Waxing gi…

Waxing…

…How was this thing called again?

“Kasen…”

The call distracts my good friend from ensuring the dango saleswoman goes home early today. “Yes?”

“Say… that phase of the Moon… right before it is full…”

Kasen thoughtfully takes a bite, then gives me a couple of skewers. “Waxing gibbous?” I nod my thanks, both for the sweets and the regained knowledge.

Where was I? Right, the festival. The festival…

…And what was I doing here again? Celebrating, I guess. Same with everyone here. Even Kasen. She thinks that I don’t notice that she’s trying to keep away from everyone, even when being friendly. She’ll get over it.

The sound of something wooden falling behind us makes us turn around. There Seiga perched herself on a circular cutaway in a wall of a nearby restaurant. “Greetings to this generation’s finest!”

Kasen wasn’t too amused. Her pointer finger pierced the air like an arrow. “The door was just two ken away! You have no respect for people’s property!”

Seiga’s played up innocence should’ve been the stuff of portraits. “Oh, but I do! Especially when the property is people, right Yoshika?”

“You called?” I answer. Jiangshi, beings such as I, ought to be controlled through corrupted Taoist arts, so, as far as proper conduct was concerned, Seiga was my master. Though I don’t remember receiving many orders other than ‘guard the Mausoleum’.

While memory may fail me on trivialities, I vividly remember how I started down this path. Twice, no less. I can’t possibly tell which of those beginnings was the rougher one. Must be the second. How much time did it take? A millennium? Seiga seems to think that this makes it more valuable, but I just can’t fathom how, even with her immortality. The experience itself, maybe? The fact that I could recover my sense of self from someplace below the lowest of lows? Like a sprout feeding off a compost?

…What was I doing again? That’s some good dango…

“Come, Yoshika! We’ve got the whole night ahead of us!” Ah, right. Food can wait.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going? I’m watching you two!”

“You always just watch, Kasen-chan!” Seiga said with a predatory smile. “Is being a voyeur a requirement for you Sages?”

“We don’t accept applications, you know.” Kasen may still have that usual stern expression, but by her flying upward while searching for something in her pocket I could tell she was taking it in good humour.

“Ah, you’re not even trying to deny it!” Seiga was about to get the fight she asked for. “It’s only fitting that we give you some punishment!”

I quickly gulp the sweets and rise into the sky. There’s already a crowd of excited onlookers, gathered to watch the commotion. The Moon, now at its largest, will soon be crowned by the streams of danmaku.

I could not be happier to be alive.

‘The death of the Ninth Child of Miare came not as a shock, but as a slow, drawn out affair. I tended to her as her mind lost its sharpness…’

---

“Akyuu…Akyuu! Are you alright?” Akyuu’s eyes blearily blinked open, dark circles around her eye sockets. Kosuzu’s apron-clad form loomed over her. The dry smell of old books permeating Suzunaan barely registered to her nostrils.

“Hmm? How long was I asleep for?” Akyuu mumbled, woozy after waking from her stupor. A placid expression etched itself on her face.

“Several hours…You okay? You barely got through the first of Agatha Chris Q’s novels before dozing off.” Kosuzu remarked as she began to tidy up, moving a neglected scroll off the table before righting Akyuu in her seat.

“Was…was that what I was doing? I don’t remember…” Akyuu murmured under her breath.

“A-anyways! Have you been getting enough sleep lately? Wouldn’t want you to fall ill...even more ill than usual.” Kosuzu shakes her head with concern, the bells in her hair jingling.

“I will get more sleep…after I finish planning out the village festivities for the Summer Solstice.” Akyuu brushed off Kosuzu’s question, unconcerned.

Kosuzu stared back at her friend, her face a mix of concern and resignation. “You...do know that it’s the end of autumn now? We were supposed to head to the Harvest Festival tonight, around this time. You do remember that…right?”

Puzzled, Akyuu tried to recall the current season. Her face scrunched up in a display of intense concentration as she tried to remember…but after several seconds of hard thought, nothing came to mind. A slightly confused countenance repainted itself over Akyuu’s pale and gaunt face.

“No…but as long as you’re here, Kosuzu, you will remember for me, won’t you?” A look of pain briefly flashes across the book-keeper’s face before she forced herself to smile. “As long…as long as I’m here, yes.” She reassured Akyuu in a measured tone, swallowing silent sobs with each syllable.

The historian moved her hands to the arms of her chair and attempted to push herself out of her seat. Several awkward seconds passed…only for Akyuu to remember that she lost the ability to stand on her own several months ago. “Kosuzu...Do you mind moving me to my wheelchair?” She called out.

Unseen by all in the bookshop, a woman with two pinkish-red ponytails closed the Agatha Chris Q novel she was reading.

---

‘…I fed her as her body shut down…’

The two women found a quiet, secluded spot next to the river flowing through the village. Flashes of fire-light from colorful lanterns lit up the orange evening sky. The raucous sounds of revelers dancing to jaunty tunes and the occasional child or fairy running about still floated over to their sanctuary, such was the scope of the Harvest Festival. For Akyuu, all that noise, all those lights just seemed so…ephemeral. Her vision blurred if she tried to focus on the colorful lanterns around her. The music sounded tinny and muffled, as if played through a broken gramophone. The only person whose voice and likeliness remained clear to Akyuu was Kosuzu.

For her part, the book-keeper tried to keep her friend engaged by describing the festivities around them, to an increasingly taciturn and distracted audience of one.

“Look at that! Cirno’s making shaved ice over there with the Three Fairies of Light.” Kosuzu indicated with an outstretched finger.

“Who let fairies into the village again?” Akyuu groused weakly, unable to muster up much of her usual antipathy towards fey.

“Never mind that…look! Kokoro’s dancing on stage again to the beat of the Primsriver Sisters’ tunes. Isn’t she lovely!” Kosuzu pointed her finger towards a lively, bustling stage surrounded by revelers.

“That’s nice, Kosuzu.” Akyuu mumbled, staring vaguely in the direction of the stage. She struggled to make out the sights and sounds of the performance.

“Well...what about…” Akyuu started to tune out even Kosuzu’s voice. Just as she was about to doze off again, a figure started to come into focus. Standing on a boat in the river was a red-haired ferrywoman, her hands holding a wooden oar. She was too far away from Akyuu for her features to be made out clearly – but the historian felt that she knew the boatwoman from somewhere. ‘What was her name…’ Akyuu tried to remember. ‘Kosuzu? Komasuka? Korandor?’ She raised a trembling hand where the boatwoman stood.

“Do you…do you see her? The red-headed boatwoman by the river. Who is she?” Akyuu asked Kosuzu, her voice wavering with notes of confusion.

“Bwuh?” Kosuzu replied, now equally as confused. “There’s no one there. Akyuu, are you alright?” Concerned, Kosuzu placed a dainty hand on Akyuu’s forehead to check for a fever.

‘No, that can’t be right. I definitely saw her.’ Akyuu thought to herself. She waved at the boatwoman to get her attention. Unseen to everyone else but Akyuu, the boatwoman waved back.

“No fever…maybe you’re just hallucinating from hunger.” Kosuzu concluded. “Give me a minute or two!” Kosuzu quickly stood up from her seat and turned a corner, only to return with two piping hot sweet potatoes wrapped in thick paper.

“Here! Eat up – they’re freshly harvested and roasted! Minoriko made these.” Kosuzu placed a hot potato into Akyuu’s cold hands.

Kosuzu slowly nibbled away at the hot potato, blowing at the potato before taking a tentative bite. She savoured the potato’s sweetness and the feeling of a warm morsel going down her gullet on a cold day. After taking a few slow munches, she turned to Akyuu to see how her friend was doing.

Akyuu had barely bitten into the potato before leaving it aside, untouched.

“I am not hungry anymore.” Akyuu remarked. “That potato was cold and bland. You should tell Minoriko – whoever she is – to find a new job.”

The puzzled stare Akyuu received from Kosuzu mirrored her own.

---

‘…and when Death arrived to harvest her soul, I was there.’

Hours passed. The dulcet tones of the evening sky transitioned into a pitch-black night. However, the autumn night was anything but dark. The sky was ablaze with the sounds and flashes of Danmaku being thrown. Reimu’s Yin-yang orbs lit up the sky like a second sun, only to be quashed by an array of colorful Tsukumogami from Mamizou.

Akyuu and Kosuzu, unable to participate, watched from a quiet grassy hill on the outskirts of the village.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Kosuzu said quietly, enraptured by the display.

Akyuu nodded, also entranced but too tired to form words.

In the stars above, Marisa flew in-between the two combatants and unleashed a loud and noisy Master Spark. The night sky became awash with a bright white glow that filled Akyuu’s vision in its entirety – until she showed up.

A familiar woman approached Akyuu on foot. The sea of whiteness flooding her vision parted as she drew closer. Akyuu’s mind flickered with recognition for the first time in a long while. That was Komachi – who else would have red-hair, twin ponytails and carry around a scythe? But if she's here now, that meant…Akyuu realised that for the first time in months, she could see, hear and think clearly. Her body was no longer wracked with pain, desperately trying to keep her weak heart beating. She sat up straight, locking eyes with the Shinigami.

Komachi stopped her advance when she was right in front of Akyuu’s wheelchair. With outstretched hand and a bittersweet smile on her lips, she beckoned Akyuu to follow. Effortlessly, Akyuu grasped Komachi's proffered hand and stood up from her chair, thanking her in a clear and happy tone;

“Thank you.”

Akyuu said to Kosuzu, her eyes shining with more clarity and presence than she’d displayed in ages. Kosuzu watched with silent tears dripping down her cheeks as the light in Akyuu’s purple eyes finally faded forever. Her best friend’s corpse slumped forward in its chair. Like a tree harvested clean of fruit, it had nothing more to give.

‘But the memory of Akyuu lives on – in our memories, in the stories she wrote and in this biography.’

- Preface of ‘My friend Akyuu – a posthumous tribute’ by Motoori Kosuzu.

There was an evening on an Uzuki day when the mother above's eye was elsewhere. There was a bitter wind, and he brought with him the scent of springtime flowers. There was a river that ran from the capital to the sea, and a road that walked beside her. There was a mountain standing in the north, keeping a village in his embrace. There was a bridge, and a barber shop beside it.

The barber's girl trudged across the bridge, her geta thunk-thunk-thunking against the wood slats, carrying her compartmented box of lacquered wood as if it was heavy, even though it might as well weigh nothing to her. She prayed that this was the last of the winds of winter shearing through her kuzu-fu michiyuki (a lovely red dye, finely embroidered--a precious gift from her mother), even though she never so much as shivered.

The barber's girl was tall for her age, everybody said (none of them knew what that age was. It was true, though), sophisticated for her upbringing, and gorgeous as a noble lady. On the latter, it was her hair that most people pointed to. Long and thick; pink and braided with roses, whose scent now mingled with the wind.

There was a faraway look in her eyes, and a sense that she was waiting for something. The barber's girl leaned on the railing and stared up the river like something was rushing down to meet her–she caught a flash of gold on the bank, and went down to meet her sister in her garden.

Adopted, of course. The barber's girl treaded carefully around the flowers; this one could be used for medicine, this one made for a lovely perfume, that one tasted nice in tea--or so her sister always said; the barber's girl barely knew rose from peony. The golden-haired woman had been barely alive when they found her, collapsed on their doorstep. The barber's girl found her sister in the shadow of their parents’ kyoumachiya, kneeling over a rose; a red, red rose with a perfectly emerald green stem. She hadn't yet been willing to speak of where she came from, but the barber was convinced that she was a princess exiled from a faraway land--how else to explain her luxurious clothes, her gaunt and ridged face, and the strange not-quite-Japanese she spoke?

“What is this one for?”

It didn't matter. The barber and her husband were kindly and lonely souls, and the strange woman needed safety and shelter, for she had nothing, nowhere, and no one.

“For your hair it will be, if that's what you would like? Otherwise perhaps perfume it is making, I am.”

And she knew her daughter was a lonely soul, too, and maybe it would do her good to have a sister. The barber's girl was adopted, too, abandoned on their doorstep by a family that didn’t want her, and her mother worried that she was still sick for the home she'd been turned out of. So even though the new girl was strange, ethereal… even though soldiers came searching for a stranger who had fled Osaka…

“That would be nice. It does have a very pretty scent.”

“It is a gift they give us. Though I am thinking that the rose will not appreciate what pleasure is there in perfume.”

That was how Kasen of Ibaraki Village and “Maeri,’ for those as have no Gaeilge” became sisters.

“But I think they appreciate you. Not so many flowers get to have such a gentle, kindly gardener. Why, you're practically a flower yourself! The himesumire of Ibaraki!”

Maeri laughed, a bell-clear sound that suited a princess-violet, “it gladdens me that you are thinking so, Milady Shimadaijin!”

–and suddenly Kasen was sharply, horribly aware of the red flush of Maeri's skin–the living water winding its way beneath her sister’s surface… Her throat felt scratchy.

“S-sorry, excuse, excuse me,” she stammered, “While I was out, I… I need to… razors need cleaning kind of badly, Mother will be really upset with me if I bring them back like this…”

Maeri made to reply, but she was already stumbling at pace back towards the waterside. Kasen looked back only briefly, and saw her with her hand raised and the eyes of someone doing intense calculation… trying, Kasen supposed, still after it was too late, to figure out if she could reach out and take her hand.

The barber's girl set her box down on a flat-ish rock, slid open the drawers… lingered a little too long over a particular razor… set aside her hone, and let the water take her troubles. Once she was clean--once her tools were clean, all would be well, and nobody would need to know. She could keep it hidden as she had so long now, and nobody ever again would need to know. Even though the river was cold enough to send anyone shivering, her hands trembled no more.

(“Monster!” Cried a hideous voice, the sound rushing up through passed-by years…)

When Maeri came up behind her a few minutes later, Kasen felt her heart sink in her chest. The river was like nothing; a deeper chill suffused her hands from within. The river ran away with the red off the razor. Maeri watched it go.

(“You killed her! It was you! Don't lie to me!”)

Kasen fell all over herself, flailed her arms, started, stammered, and stopped a hundred explanations and excuses…

Maeri squeezed her sister's hand, heedless of the razor flat on the palm, and she said: “You don’t need to be afraid of this, our family. Make every mistake that is needful, and still be my sister.”

(... grey eyes, pale reddish hair, and a blow to the side of her head that as well might've been from a fierce deity's thundering kanabou)

Kasen squeezed back. They sat like that until Kasen's breath finally steadied. They finished washing up, and walked back home.

Half-buried in the dirt path, there was the carcass of a bird cleft open, all in half from crest to claw. Kasen stepped over it, shook away a trick of the light that made it look as if eyes were blinking in the wound, and kept walking.

… Her mother scolded her for being out so late. There were youkai about, and the bandits up Mt. Ooe had lately been blundering as far southwest as this, and after all it was not safe under any moon for her to go about alone. She explained, at Maeri's encouraging nod, that there had been a little trouble with the ladies and that had taken time, and then she'd had to clean her razors afterward and that had taken time.

The barber told her she was just glad that she made it home safe. And she said there was another love letter arrived for her, and oughtn't she think about marriage? And Kasen said she had. She’d thought about it quite a lot. And that was the end of that conversation.

They had supper, then Kasen and Maeri read poetry together from a collection out of the capital which their mother had bought from Osaka-bound merchant-men. Maeri's eyes sparkled at every bit of magic while Kasen wondered what it was about love that sent the lady of the Rokkasen into her winding spirals of joy and sorrow.

And then, when light and wakefulness were all but vanished from the house, Kasen crept out of her bedroll and into the workroom. She plucked a razor from her toolbox, and stepped outside that she might see by moonlight.

She thought about the love letter. The latest of many. People said she was gorgeous, and the village boys had certainly noticed; the ones who weren't already wed, at least, and perhaps a few others. She thought about those boys now. They were stupid, or cruel, or simply as likely to fall in love again with the next woman who passed through. She didn't wish herself on any of them. She knew something they did not. She didn't wish her flesh and blood on any child. Wouldn't a world with no children like her be so much nicer? Wrong from the day she was born, she was.

Something possessed her to look at the razor, look really very closely. She could not think why. It was a thin slice of steel with an edge that was mostly sharp; the frail light bounced off of it as easily as the mirror she had seen kept in Ibaraki Shrine. She turned it over in her hands and looked at it from another angle. It was a thin slice of steel with an edge that was mostly sharp; the frail light bounced off of it as easily as the mirror she had seen kept in Ibaraki Shrine.

She did not wince or gasp when the razor broke her skin. She painted a thin red line across her wrist. And then she put her mouth around that line, and suckled the blood, and nothing at all happened.

There was a golden eye at the bottom of the split in her flesh.

Her wrist was spotless again. She stared dimly at it, without feeling anything or even really seeing it. She was looking at something else now, and the void of feeling was conspicuously shaped like yesterevening’s thrill and rush of power.

She threw the razor at nothing in particular, only as far away from her as it would go. And then she slapped her own face several times and went looking for wherever it fell. A full ten minutes she scrabbled in the roadside grass tearing up handfuls of dirt and weed-flowers before at last she saw the glint. An okuri-ookami coming down the road sniffed at her–then went on his way again. She washed it in the river again, replaced it in its drawer, and crawled back into bed.

Slender arms seized her about the waist.

Maeri's accent always seemed like it must be that of some far-off fairyland, and all the more so whispered into the ear from the crook of Kasen's right shoulder. “Perhaps I am not seeming it, but I am strange too, you know. The world is better for having such strange people.” As she spoke, she gazed forlornly at Kasen's wrist. The one that she had cut open.

Kasen just smiled and shook her head in response. ‘Better’… she was ‘better’ off dead. But here and now she was alive anyway.

But she mumbled and muttered a halting thanks anyway, and Maeri pulled her closer, and they slept on ‘til morning just so.

---

First thing, she went by the big house near the inn, the same place as yesterday. This was where the ladies of spring plied their trade to sailors and merchants resting on the way to the capital. They were by far her most recurring clients. She had not finished her rounds yesterday, owing to the accident.

It was drizzling. She stepped under the awning and shook out her umbrella, made to slide it under the inuyarai, and stared. The carved pipes of curved bamboo had somehow changed, and where once had stood a fence were now massive gnarled roots, which stretched and writhed, as if alive, on and on, across the street, into town. One cracked open a cobblestone path from below as it lashed out to grab a bird overhead… then a second later dropped it, the unfortunate thing now shriveled and dead. Kasen withdrew her hand, terrified that if she touched them, she would die the same… and then she blinked, and it was an inuyarai again.

She began to breathe, suddenly acutely aware that she had not noticed she had stopped.

Nobody else on the street even seemed to have seen what she had. Mr. Akiyama across the way nearly stumbled into a trough in the soil that one of the roots had dug, and cursed the tricks of the local mujina under his breath.

Kasen gingerly lay her umbrella down, slid open the door, and went in.

The ladies were glad to see her, even Miss Saijou with the bandage on her cheek. Madame Michinaga paid her in advance for all the remaining haircuts and shaves, and gently reminded her that she was young, and mistakes happened.

Of course they happened again. To Miss Saijou again, even, who laughed it off and wondered if she was accidentally wiggling a bit. After all, it was a bit ticklish sometimes when the razor met her skin, she said.

Well, the barber's girl stared at the razor, which trembled in her hands (no, of course. Her hands were trembling. A razor couldn't tremble, could it?). The bitter iron-scent was overpowering, and Miss Saijou wasn't looking, and she was halfway to gulping down the blood before she found herself and pulled back. She set her jaw, lest she vomit out of sheer roiling disgust.

She continued about her work and did not quite finish today either.

---

Afterward, Kasen met her sister at the market, where she was selling tinctures and tonics and potions and perfumes all either brewed from her flowers, or else traded with traveling apothecaries for one that was.

“Keeping safe and dry?” She said nothing of her troubles, merely set down an extra-large bowl of rice-and-boar stew from the stall next door down for the two of them to share.

“For now just so. But I am hearing from my customers that a stormfront is coming in, a very, very dreadful one.” A pause, a furtive glance this way and that–”From the tengu who came down from the mountain that think I don't see through their disguises, this comes from.”

“The… Maeri, if you know what they are, you shouldn't be talking to them! Tengu are dangerous!”

“And I would be finding it less dangerous to refuse them without reason, or unmask them in the square?”

“... Er. Well… you should find some way to avoid them! That isn't right! It isn't right. Humans aren't supposed to… we're not supposed to… what if people find out?”

Maeri smiled sympathetically and said, with a pat on her shoulder, “Ahhh, very well, so it shall be. Above all I mustn’t be making my sister worry. Misses Shameimaru and Iizunamaru I shall serve no more.”

She leaned out from under the awning of her little tent to take in the grey of sky. And then she continued: “On days that are like as this one, though, have you never thought that it would be good if you were yourself ayakashi? Bodies of nature itself, and aye, sure powerless to stop earthquake or storm, for they are such and doing so would be going against their very selves. But neither defeated by rain, bested by wind, laid low by snow, or conquered by heat. It would be a very nice thing, I think, to never live in fear of flood-rains.”

“... No, I've never thought that,” said Kasen. She tried to be stern, because that was worrisome talk, but the tremulous quality of her voice gave the lie to that.

(“Monster!”)

Maeri giggled, “Ah, mah, be not minding me. Shall we eat?”

The scent of blood was still lingering in Kasen's mind if not her nose strongly enough to make the whole stew taste of iron. She ate greedily in spite of that.

In spite?

… Surely.

---

The next day there was another love letter waiting for her. She could not read what the grotesque dancing sigils said, though everyone seemed to think she should. She bid goodbye to her mother and father and Maeri, and went to go finish up the last of her work with the ladies.

Somebody followed her up the road. She could feel too-hot eyes on the back of her neck. But if she turned around, he was gone. When she tried to use a pond's reflection, nobody was there--but the feeling did not disappear. She withdrew a pair of scissors from her box and held them close all the way to the brothel.

She had no nightmares at the door this time, and entered the house fearlessly.

–and was assailed by the stench of death, then stumbled on the step. It made her stomach feel empty, and that made her skin crawl. And something under her skin was crawling too…

… She did no business in that place that day. Not with a body in the building. The lady who she had cut by accident yesterday. Nothing to do with Kasen, of course, no, a step up to the second floor had broken (old, worm-eaten, it should have been replaced long ago…) and, well, poor Miss Saijou had just happened to land badly and break her neck.

But Kasen saw something that none of the others saw; there was a mass of golden eyeballs looking out from the corpse's slack mouth. There were eyes of red or yellow looking out from every hole in the shouji. Every slat of wood in the floors, if her gaze lingered too long, seemed to wriggle like worms. The scent of candles and incense turned foul and sulfurous and then faltered back to normal as soon as she started to get used to it.

Hastily, she flew from the building (behind her, the ladies took it for nausea, which perhaps wasn't completely wrong), and did not stop until she nearly ran into one of the willows that weeped over the riverside. She leaned against the tree for support–her hand touched something dry, hard, and smooth. Sucking in what little breath she'd caught, she mustered her courage and looked up. Femurs and spinal discs carved in woodgrain-ridges and connected by mushy, leaf-mould flesh swayed in the breeze. The leaves were paper and written over with scrawling simultaneously too loose and too dense to read.

And then there was a weeping willow, and the sky was a rainy grey, and the earth under her feet was no more or less than soil. And Kasen had to trudge back to the brothel to retrieve her toolbox.

She ended up stumbling her way to the village headman, the honourable Mikami, who was quite happy to pay to have his two wives’ hair done. And when she accidentally nicked them with her razor… well, when she was done trembling in fear of reprisal, she licked up the blood. Furtively, surreptitiously, and when she did she felt strong. Strong beyond fear, able to stand against horror. The feeling faded quickly, but now she wondered. If she needed to, could she be strong?

(“You killed her! It was you!”)

… She shuddered, barely held back from screaming, and couldn't think why.

---

“Have you the memory,” Maeri said, a propos of not a thing at all, “of your birthday the year your… our mother took me in, when I was able to find you some of my land’s potatoes to try?”

“... no?”

“Surely, you are able? I recall it clearly. The little round brown vegetable marked all across the outside with things that are like eyes. With the soft inner flesh. I baked it for you and served it with green onion. You said it had a strange taste and I said it was the taste of my homeland. And I laughed, because that's a stereotype, and you had no idea what I was talking about.”

“Oh. Right. I remember now.” She couldn't quite catch the taste in nets of memory, and she thought she'd have to find some more somehow and remember it again, better.

“Do you? Strange. I was making that up just now.”

Kasen blinked.

“You see, I have been thinking. You are seeing now how we build the past in the present, yes? Normally it is more of a task than that - are you well today? - but all of us remember things that never were. Look at this picture scroll,” she continued, unrolling a long painting of youkai reveling in the dead of night, and then she pointed to the end where the rising sun smashed their ranks, “you see that her holiness wears a juunihitoe. And yet I am for believing that this is the very beginning of days, when first she sat the throne. Such things existed not then! But to the artist, ‘now’ was all they were seeing. We are not for knowing the past, and when we write and draw it, we fill in details with ‘now.’”

Maeri reached over, plucked a pair of scissors out of a drawer with an infuriatingly knowing smile, twirled them in her hand and tapped them against the image of Amaterasu in a juunihitoe. Kasen scrunched up her brow thoughtfully.

“But that's just… talk, isn't it? A real past must have happened. You can't just change it by remembering it wrong.” Pause. “Were there really not juunihitoe yet back then? I kind of thought noblewomen always wore those…”

Maeri laughed into her sleeve.

“I am wondering about that, I am. The foxes who come by my garden sometimes thinking I am not for seeing them for what they are-”

“Maeri!” Kasen shook her head sternly, raised a finger, started to tell her sister off--Maeri just plowed on.

“-I've heard them saying that youkai and gods are shaped by the stories we tell of them. Well, then, if we tell stories about their past, does that change? And then, the priests at the shrines, they say that humans have a holy spirit in them--we are like very small gods. Is that then what happened to me? Is someone in a time long yet to come thinking, well, that Maribel Hearn, she must always have been here? Is that why I have ended up where I have? Am I, as it were, a juunihitoe? It seems as likely an explanation as any. In fact there are a great many things that would be making more sense like this.” By the end her breath was hitching, and the words were coming almost as fast as the meaningless, flailing hand gestures.

Kasen had nothing to say, but she took Maeri's hands in hers. It seemed the right thing to do. Maeri seemed distressed over this, near to being really frantic over these strange ideas she had.

“Then…” Kasen began haltingly, “do you know how to tell if something is really happening?” And she wondered if that might help her, too.

“Ah, well, there was a deep thinker, I have heard, who said that reality was when something has more qualities than you can sense at once. After all, that painting of her majesty Amaterasu there, it's not that we can't be seeing her back, it's that she doesn't have one. She's a painting, there is nothing there. I could paint another picture of her showing the back, but that would just be another picture of another Amaterasu, and in that one, she wouldn't have a front. And, well, if I write, nothing can capture all of a thing, no matter how exhaustively I write. Words are abstractions and generalities, while things, they are being singular and absolute. But the scroll, it has another side. If I lift it up it’s having weight. If I put it up to the light, it will be shining through. There keeps being more of it.”

“So, all we need to do is turn over the scroll?”

“This is what I am supposing.”

… But Maeri made no motion, and Kasen’s body just would not listen to her. Her arms would not reach and neither would her hands grasp.

Her throat was so hideously dry.

“Mah, but there were also thinkers who were saying truth is the argument of power, or truth is agreement, or truth is the story we tell. Some are even saying truth is false. Reality is all in the mind, or anyway it is being shaped by the mind, and as a great monk says, Mind ‘is the sound of wind through the pines in the india-ink painting.’ I suppose, though, if they’re not being real, you won't be wanting these dango I traded a rose perfume for? Cannot be being your favourite if it does not exist!”

Maeri plucked a pair of three-colour dango out of a little basket behind her, offered one to Kasen--and swung it up over her head when Kasen reached for it.

She was laughing like a girl half her age when Kasen tackled her. When Kasen finally wrestled the stick out of her grip, she found the taste not as satisfying as she remembered.

---

The next day birds fell from the sky with the drizzle, all dead. All with eyes staring out from their wounds, from down their throats. Golden gazes that seemed at once blind and seeing much too deeply. And heaven save her, but the day was so hot. Had the sun come closer? But there were clouds… She was so thirsty. But she went about her day, trying to ignore how all the trees seemed to crawl, the way eyes watched her from every open space, the way her clothes seemed to wriggle as if alive, undulate as if breathing–then stop and become stiff as stone. At one point the road seemed to crumble under her as she ran; at another it was everything but the road that fell away, and it seemed like she would walk forever. One of the village boys, one of the ones she knew had been leaving her love letters, followed her down the path, and he seemed too tall, too lank, and his breath seemed to sizzle in the air…

When she heard that his lordship Mikami had died in his sleep (the roof caved in and so did his skull), she set down her box, and withdrew her best razor.

She regarded it closely, as, she recalled suddenly, she had done before and couldn't remember why.

It was a thin slice of steel with an edge that was mostly sharp; the frail light bounced off of it as easily as the mirror she had seen kept in Ibaraki Shrine.

She did not turn it over. What good, thinking about it, did it do her to know if someone was making all this up? She was still living it.

She found clients at the marketplace, and when she cut them open, and that wonderful, hateful red dribbled out, it wasn't an accident. When she drank it down, she felt like vomiting she was so disgusted with herself. And when she felt strong, she felt so weak.

Afterward, she sat herself by the bank of the river, and hit herself across the side of the head.

(... from a fierce deity's thundering kanabou…)

Again, again, again. She was a human. She was not a monster. She had to be a human. For her father, for her real father, the barber who had taken her in when that other man wanted nothing to do with his daughter who was too strong, too smart, too sharp of tooth, growing too fast. The girl who killed her mother. That wasn't who she was supposed to be! If she went back to being that, she would get thrown out again! She would lose her father, her mother, her sister! Staying on the right path was an important thing, the most important thing for humans, and she had just gone wandering into the bushes!

… The sun was low on the horizon. She packed up her things and went home.

---

The next morning her father was dead of nothing at all. His body was crawling with eyes that nobody else seemed to see. Her mother was barely still present in her own flesh, and all she did was sit and watch over the body as if he might yet wake up.

Kasen went about her work. If she didn't, she had this feeling… this feeling of cold sweat and chill hands, trembling heart and wide eyes, hot blood and bile in her throat… that she might not be able to resist the hunger.

It was raining, but she forgot her umbrella and, if she were being honest she hardly cared.

When she went out, the grass was fine like hair, and she had to wade through dirt as if it was water–then the dirt was like layers and layers of thin, sharp shells, while the grass was all one mass. A rag blowing down the street turned out to be a thin slice of human flesh crawling with its ribs as if they were centipedal legs, and then was a balloon escaping the Earth's narrow confines. The houses around her were turning into steel and glass, and rising into the sky. Kasen turned her eyes and kept walking. At one point, she walked at her own left, another passed herself on the right–for a moment, walked by an infinite number of herself on every side, as if between two mirrors. She went through the apothecary door and found herself stepping out of the temple door up the mountain, where none of the monks seemed to notice that they were wearing the still-living furs of indescribable beasts; the steps up to the sanmon gatehouse there took her to the inn. At the crossroads, miniature suns kept flashing red and yellow and blue, and anything that got near them burnt away. Oboroguruma came screaming down the roads in grand convoys. Clouds came low and circled her; she saw them for bleached skulls–then for piles of string--next for swarms of swallowtail butterflies, which stole away with the tangerines of immortal orchards. Her own shadow stalked at her right and swiped at her arm, its claws leaving long trails of blood, while onigawara and Shouki climbed off of the houses she passed and hounded her heels; she quickened her pace. She need not have--though the whole world was losing all coherence, nothing save herself laid a finger on her, and that one she could hardly escape.

Her eyes did not stray from the path in front of her. No sweat marred her skin. Her heartbeat never quickened. In fact, she could feel it… slowing… down…

---

She woke up next to her mother's utterly motionless body, with a note from Maeri, saying that Madame Michinaga had found her passed out in the road and carried her home. Her mother did not stir no matter how she called out to her. She shook her and she did not wake up. She was so terribly pale, and her eyes were unfocused and glassy.

Kasen fell across her chest, too tired to cry… and burst into tears when she felt it rise and fall. And when her eyes were all dry, she fell asleep.

Raijin beat his drum unrelentingly. Fuujin had abandoned his bag of four winds, which now rampaged without his guidance.

Kasen stood out in the rain. Black tar. It was black tar that fell on her, and where it did no more than slide off her flesh, where it hit the ground it sizzled and burned like tiny fires.

Maeri went ahead, with her umbrella open as if it were no more than a rainy day. Her grip was firm; it did not flail in the wind. Her feet were steady; even though the floodwaters were rising, she took not a single erring step.

“Come, come, it is the shrine we should be making for!” She had no need to say which one; of course it was the old Inari shrine up the mountain, just past the Suwa Shrine--the natural place to refuge from a flood.

Kasen hauled her mother, still unconscious, a little higher up on her back, and gave a long last look back at their home. There had been no time to give her father a proper send-off. All she could do was beg the gods to let her have the chance after the flood was past.

The walk was long and battered by waves. She envied Maeri's legs; where Maeri almost seemed like a dancer as she went, Kasen nearly fell with every step as she trudged along. They were barely out of the house when she lost her umbrella. A fallen tree nearly swept her away as it itself was swept away. Branches and broken houses snatched and snagged and tore at her clothes or her father. Shadows in the water circled constantly, waiting for their chance. Any body that drifted by… Kasen recognised Mr. Akiyama without enough strength to mourn… was swiftly dragged under. Stripped bones would soon float back up.

It was on the steps up to the shrine that it happened.

There was a roaring and a rumbling that made heaven and earth themselves tremble… and the trees began to fall inward, and then to walk down the slope. As mudslides went it was small, but it was bearing down on her as unstoppable as if Shuten-Douji himself had come down from his mountain just for her. Just to kill her.

Kasen’s whole world went dark, and when she came to, Maeri was clutching at her arm, and she was screaming. They were on the other side of the slide. Their mother was not. Kasen raged and shrieked and struck and begged, pleaded Maeri to let her go, to please, please, please, help her save their mother. Maeri only tightened her grip. It was too late. There was no saving her. She was gone.

And then she really was gone, at least from sight, and Kasen went slack. Maeri threw away her umbrella and hauled her sister up the last of the stairs.

Dimly, Kasen saw eyes staring at her from the gaps between the torii's pillars and crossbars, and one of the pedestaled foxes guarding the shrine seemed alive, breathing, and bristling with yellow fur. Her lips were pursed. She watched as they crested the hill and fell into the sacred grounds. There was something judgemental in her gaze–but then she bounded away. Somehow that felt judgemental too.

Kasen sat with her knees folded to her chest and looked down on the valley. There was nothing left but bubbling, sizzling tar.

“Tell me, were you knowing that Seo was not meant to die?”

“What?”

“You are grieving. Not the wailing kind of grieving, but the kind where you are feeling empty inside, and you keep thinking ‘I should talk to my mother about this’ and then she is not there. No? But things are dying always. Anyone might die any day and you won't ever be knowing until they do. Morning is not something promised. Is it seeming strange? Is it seeming something for tears? Your mother is not there, you are feeling that only because you are expecting her to be. Why should you expect that?”

Kasen swallowed the part of her that was trying to agree. But she swallowed the part of her that wanted to hit Maeri, too. Bell, bird, and I… Where had she heard that? Taught to her as a child, maybe. This was Maeri's way with death. She'd been like this when their cat died, too. As repugnant, as revolting as it was. It would do neither of them any good if she threw her sister into the flood.

(And another small part of her wondered what must have happened to her, for this to be her way with death?)

“But she should have been!” She cried, “she wasn't supposed to be, but she should have been! It wasn't right.”

Clap, clap, clap! Maeri was… applauding?

“Yes!” She cheered, “Yes, that is so!”

She paused for a second and motioned as if chewing her words. Her face went all screwed-up. Whatever she was saying, it needed saying right, and that demanded dedicated effort.

“Because I've remembered why I'm here, now. Let me explain. Your land is all alive,” she spoke with all the slow carefulness of a kazen artist putting together her own little floating world, “but it will not stay that way. Everything dies, of course. But so do things. In my land, in my time, we call it the Anthropocene Extinction. Everyone knows, every moment, whole categories of things disappear from the world never to return. Fewer see just how many.”

“Isn’t that the whole world? They always say it's just a passing dream. That everything we are and know is just shadows impressed on fog.”

“But you aren't believing that, are you? Your faith is in something that's real and eternal. Or it is going to be? No, you will listen to me. I have seen the other face of the world. The hidden space betwixt one reality and the next where all the poems remain when the paper is burnt,” she was fighting back tears now, “And I have seen it as it will be. And I think that is why I am the way I am, and in the place that I am. For every hundred species of life that have ever lived, ninety-nine are gone completely from this Earth. In my land there are no more tigers and no more zashiki-warashi. And very few kindly barbers taking in such strange, lonely daughters. The wolves are all dead and the ibises barely survived. The yamabiko, gone forever; hakutaku close behind. Everywhere, even the gods falter, fail, and fall. Everything beautiful in this world is going to be made extinct. This, as you say, should not be! You will help me, won't you? It will be grabbing smoke with our bare hands, but we ought save everything we can. For this, I need your help above all else.”

Kasen thought of her mother's body, which was perhaps now going to Izanami’s province of shadow the hard way, straight through earth. She longed to go with her, wherever she was going, but her feet were too heavy on the ground.

She pulled Maeri in close. She didn't understand, really, what Maeri was saying, but she thought she had to be there for her sister. It was the right thing to do. Now that her father and her mother were gone, who else was there for her? What other chance did she have left, to feel human?

“I promise. Whatever you need from me.”

“’S tha e ruidhinn mo chridhe.” Maeri kissed her cheek, then led her into the shelter of the shrine office.

Maeri took a sheet of paper from a chest there. She plucked a sickle from a rack on the wall. And then before Kasen's eyes, she pricked her thumb, and began to write a letter.

For a moment, Kasen saw in her eyesockets not the hazel-ish eyes she was used to, but a whole mass of red and golden eyes, all jammed in together. Writhing. And then Maeri blinked and her eyes were normal again. But when she was done writing, she raised her hands as if to show them to Kasen–there were eyeballs spilling out of her thumb instead of blood now. She plucked one of those eyes off the ground and held it up in front of her own.

Then she flicked her wrist, and a gap in the world opened up along the path her index finger traced. The hole was full of staring, glaring eyes and hands fighting each other for the chance to escape. Maeri dropped the eye in, flicked her wrist again, and the gap closed.

There was a moment. Nothing happened. No one moved. Not even the rain dared to make a sound.

Something inside of Kasen broke. She was standing over Miss Saijou's remains, staring at the eyes that were staring back at her from every space they could grow in. She was standing in Mikami's bedroom, watching the roof cave in, and seeing a huge golden eye open up in the space it left. She was walking among a field of dead birds and they were all staring at her. She was holding what her father left behind and begging him not to go, and all the while-

She lunged.

For a moment, she thought her hands had closed about Maeri's neck, but she wasn't there.

“When you plant rice,” came that unearthly voice, ringing out of no place at all, “the seeds already contain the full-grown grass. When a friend said that to me once, I thought of Deoxyri… perhaps you'd call it heredity. Things only grow in one direction. That’s fate, isn’t it? Without the farmer's care, rice will fail, or anyway it won't become the thing it was growing towards. So it's a selection of fates then, limited by birth and circumstance.”

Then there she was; she considered the sickle in her hands.

“She said, no. She said, things have shape in time, too. Things don't happen one after another. We experience them one after another and no more. If we only knew how to see, we would see that all of time is already there, just as all space is already there. I suppose that's how the tales told in the future can reach back and be the history of gods and youkai, if it's true that's how it works. It's really as simple as a ball thrown from one end of the room knocking over a candle on the other. Well, not for me, but in the abstract. Anyway, what that means, if she's right, is that everything that happens today, already happened, it's just that the two of us are only getting around to it today. The tale that won’t be told until the days of Edo already wrote your fate, and you were always going to bloom into the woman I need you to be. And I…” Maeri, if that was what she was, brushed a tear from her left eye.

The world turned inwards, red crept outwards. Steel and the smell of rust climbed as trees, fracturing skyward.

“As a gardener, I can't risk my rose not blooming because I was careless. So, if my friend was wrong, I have to do this. If she was not… I still have to do this, because nothing else can happen. And so do you.”

She handed Kasen the letter. It was still wet. The blood was still fresh. The smell was powerful, and the temptation strong.

“It’s full of love. I wrote all the love I know will be in your future into it. It won't hurt you.”

‘The weather clears, breezes comb the hair of the young willows.’ The words echoed in the depths of her heart. She knew these words, she knew them before she ever heard them. They were what she had been waiting for all her life. When she stood on the bridge and stared up the river, it was the woman who would say this to her that she was waiting for.

She slapped the horrific letter out of Maeri's hands and then pounced. Not like this. Not from her. This wasn't right. It wasn't. She didn’t know who yet, but those words were supposed to come from someone else, someone better, someone she would love for the rest of time. She grabbed Maeri's head, possessed by a rage she could not wrap words around, and pressed her thumbs down on Maeri's eyes. She felt them begin to squish--then Maeri wasn't beneath her at all. Inarticulate, roaring fury poured out of her throat.

And then her mother was in front of her. Her first mother. The one who had given her birth. And the woman was white in the face, and her eyes were wide but her pupils were barely pinpricks. She clutched her chest. And, so terrified of her own child that her heart stopped, she died.

“All I did was smile. I just wanted to show you how much I loved you. It's not my fault. It's not my fault, I was just born wrong, please…”

“No!” Maeri's voice was sharp as she walked back into view from a direction that was not up, or down, or left, right, forward, backward, or even ana or kata, “You were born strange. You were born different. I was born strange. I was born different. We are not wrong! Never, ever say that about yourself!” She clutched at Kasen’s hand, and then began to sing:

“‘Even if I spread my arms wide, I can't fly through the sky, but still the little bird who flies can't run on the ground as fast as I. Even if I shake my body about no pretty sound comes out, but still, the tinkling bell doesn't know as many songs as I. Bell, bird and I, we're all different and that's just fine.’ They teach that to every little child born here two thousand years hence. Nobody believes it! Someone, somewhere, is not just different, but wrong. Maybe it's murderers and maybe it's foreigners, maybe it's the fellow who chews open-mouthed, but there are always a thousand thousand uncrossable lines that make you wrong, so maybe better try not to be different. I swore I would never be like that, so I'm going to be here for you ‘til the end. Whatever you grow into.”

Kasen's body went slack. She began to sob.

Maeri went on: “But if you want my advice, if you want to know what I think would be best–and that's all I've done, show you the way I think would be best–then I think you should give up on being human. No more running scared. No more of the terror of people discovering that you were different since you were born. No more walking on the cliffside. Just you, and me, and being comfortable in our own skins. Be a monster if you have to be, but at least be.”

She set the letter in Kasen's lap.

“But only if that's what you choose. If, I suppose, any of us really chooses at all.”

---

She saw him coming up the mountain. The only survivor in all of Ibaraki village. He had grey eyes, and pale reddish hair, and as he gasped and wheezed she heard his hideous voice for what it was. She saw his hands and knew they were the hands that had once fallen like kanabou across her face.

He crested the hill, following a yellow fox with too many tails, and saw, lurching in front of the god's dwelling-hall, something that was not quite a shape. Something that had spent days fearing that the world was coming unraveled, and only now realised that the truth was that the world was only ever in its own mind.

Anyway, that was the last thing he saw.

And after all her eyes weren't grey, and her hair wasn't pale reddish, and her voice was really gentle and kind, and her hands were truthfully not quite a farmer's calloused hands but not quite an artist's unblemished ones.

The thing in the shrine was, at that moment, too hungry to care.

The wind died, and the howling went on. Even the okuri-ookami on the mountain trails could not match the sound for wretched desolation.

---

When she woke up, the whole world was upside-down. It was hardly noticeable, for she was upside-down, too. But that vertiginous feeling that crawled and clambered and clawed up her legs to her head told no lie. She stumbled, then nearly fell, and dry-throated glared at what remained of Ibaraki Village - nothing, or nearly so - and willed and prayed for it to right itself. She would gladly remain upside-down for the rest of time herself if only–

But it stayed horribly, sickeningly inverted.

The bridge outside her house was still standing; the only thing, the rest of the village had been swept away as if it never was–and never would be again. The river was rumbling quietly, no different from a thousand other rainless days before.

She went there, nearly falling over with every second step, and Maeri was waiting for her. She was sitting on the banister, and her dress was fluttering in the breeze. The flapping, folding motion made the purple embroidery seem to melt into a thousand thousand grotesqueries. Grinning skulls and walking bowls, water-tigers and long-nose-crows, cats carrying corpses and foreigner jiabo, half-cut mountain-fish and iron-rats roving, crane wives and celestial wives and octopus wives abounding, foxes fair and foul, snow-white snakes and the haunting ebisu owl… and eyes, eyes, eyes, eyes, eyes, eyes, eyes…

She smiled at seeing Kasen approach; jumped down and took Kasen’s hands in hers--cold, so cold, had neither of them any warmth left?

“I’m going to say something now that another me two thousand years older wishes she'd said. It might not make sense to you yet, but that's the way it is. When we wish we had said things, it's usually because of the knowledge we gained in between “

She cleared her throat.

“The message is, ‘we were sisters, Kasen. You, Okina, and I. Of all the sages, we were the best and the closest, because only we three came into this world tiny, helpless, and screaming. I was lost when we first met, you and Okina showed me the way. And we three helpless, fragile things changed the course of history. Then you turned your back on me. You abandoned me. That doesn't matter. You can be whatever you want to be, you can hate me. It's true no more that we are sisters. But it will always be true that we were sisters. Always! And I love you, and I will still love you until the day we see eye to eye again, no matter what. There’s nothing that could change in either of us that would stop me loving you. Me and mine and thee and thine are one and the same, ever and endlessly.’ And as for this me now, she… I will not say A chuid do Pharas, nor gu’n gleidheadh Dia thu, nor gu’n beannaicheadh Dia an tigh!”

Here there was a pause. Kasen could do nothing but listen, but she shifted uneasily. Her eyes were wild, like a rat forced out into daylight.

“Pardon, don't misunderstand me,” Maeri said, as if there was any way Kasen could've understood rightly or wrongly to begin with, “I don't mean my ancestors’ god. But I think some of the rituals that were his can be ours. And I will say this: Gaoth gun direadh ort! Dia ad aghaidh ‘s ad aodann… agus bas dunach ort! Dhonas dholas ort, agus leat-sa!”

She was gone.

… There was a morning on an Uzuki day when the mother above's eye was elsewhere. There was a bitter wind, and he brought with him the scent of springtime flowers. There was a river that ran from the capital to the sea, and a road that walked beside her. There was a mountain standing in the north, watching an empty valley with dewy dogwood eyes. There was a bridge.

There was a reflection in the water. She was a gorgeous young woman despite the shadows under he eyes. Taller than any man even bent over now more than double, and with long pink hair. Her michiyuki had surely once been red (hadn't it?), and the flowers in her hair had probably not always scented of death (hadn't they?). A pair of long, crooked, gnarled horns crowned her temples.

The barber's girl was curled over the railing, spitting blood and bile into the water. There seemed to be no end to it. She hacked and wheezed and it wasn't over, nothing was ever over.

But it could be.

With every ripple her reflection changed. But this was not the changeability of water–she was losing shape, collapsing the way the rustling shapes on the edge of your vision melt into the night. If she still had a stomach she would be sick to it, but all she felt now was the struggle of keeping two legs, two arms… pelvis, torso, chest, shoulders, head… she still needed eyes, right? Nose. Ears. How many fingers? A lifetime of complacent habit unraveled.

Ahhh, so this was what they called oni… ‘hidden,’ ‘unseen.’

She stretched out one grasping too-long arm.

“Den, you're it.”

The river took her without ripple nor wave.

---

Someone had set a piece of bread and a bowl of ale beside the river, beside a frail rosa akashiensis miki that still clung miraculously to life.

Someone had set a pillar of stone on a roadside where there was no bridge and no river, beneath a fence of corrugated steel.

Starlight danced overhead.

Skyscrapers loomed on the horizon.

Merry broke the bread and drank the ale. One was bitter and the other sour, but it was the last thing she needed to do as a gentle, kindly gardener. A crow overhead named her a fool.

“‘Taste this bread, this substance: tell me, is it bread or flesh?’ So the story is told. The senses approach, and Smell says ‘Its smell is the smell of bread.’”

Yukari removed her left glove and set her hand atop the monument. It was cold against her skin and told of a time that never could have happened, which she remembered well. The horn of a train going past screamed at something.

“‘Touch, come. Why tremble? Say what's this thou touchest?’ So I recall that Sharp-called-MacLeod remembers Calderon. ‘Bread.’”

“'Sight, declare what thou discernest in this object.’ One more line and the tale begins.”

“‘A rose alone!’ My sister, bearing fruit at last!”

Ibaraki-Douji ascended the bank.

Fear, despair, nightmare, the book whispered. Little ants of the anthill: the boot, the burning glass, the anteater's tongue for thee. The youkai await. A raspy, papery voice from the page, speaking straight to the primal fear instinct. Cower within thy village, o tremulous mortals; outside lies murder, terror, the wolf's stout jaws to gnaw muscle and bone. Meager tallow candles cannot stand against the encroaching dark; in the dead of night under the light of the moon, the youkai-

Kosuzu Motoori closed the volume with a sigh and laid her head on the counter of her family's rental bookstore. Even flipping through her favorite cursed book from her personal collection wasn't cheering her up today. She was so BORED she could choke. Brightly colored posters on the walls proclaimed autumn to be the season of reading, and made optimistic recommendations of novels in a variety of genres. In reality, autumn was the season of reaping the land, and few of the human villagers had time for any other pursuits right now. Even her parents were out in the fields helping bring in this year's harvest, and they had left her alone to mind the shop.

Not that it needs minding this time of year. She didn't have the physique or temperament for manual labor. Fine, she understood that. But with no browsing customers to talk literature with, and no suppliers to bring her new imports or the occasional precious cursed book, this job was torture. Just a little longer 'til closing time...

As Kosuzu lay lamenting her existence, the door opened. She sat bolt upright and forced her face into a customer-service smile. "Welcome to Suzunaan, how can... oh, hi, Mamizou!"

Kosuzu's smile transformed into a genuine one. Her first customer of the day was her friend, the youkai tanuki Mamizou Futatsuiwa, shedding her human disguise on seeing no one else in the shop. When the two first met, Mamizou had just seemed like a cool, self-assured, stylish human woman who shared Kosuzu's interest in cursed youkai books. As Kosuzu grew involved with Gensokyo's youkai society, Mamizou's true nature was revealed, and she became even cooler. When Kosuzu's parents and the shrine maiden were trying pigeonhole her into a boring village life, Mamizou offered glimpses of the secret youkai world behind the scenes. She was like the awesome big sister Kosuzu never had.

"Howdy there, Kosuzu. What's the matter? You seem down."

"Oh, it's nothing much. Business is just slow, but that's normal this time of year. It'll get busy again after the harvest festival."

"The harvest festival!?" Mamizou looked shocked for a moment, but quickly recovered. "Ah... and how long is it until the humans' harvest festival?"

"It's not until the end of the month, the harvest is still in full swing right now." Kosuzu paused a moment. "The 'humans' harvest festival'? Does that mean the youkai have a harvest festival too?"

"Oh, you are sharp as a tack, Miss Kosuzu, nothing gets past you. I really shouldn't mention it, but yes, there's a youkai harvest festival, this evening actually. I just stopped by on my way there to bring you this." Mamizou pulled a thin mimeographed book out of her handbag. The tengu script on the cover identified it as the minutes of a meeting of the Great Tengu Advisory Committee.

"I got my hands on this through my sources," Mamizou said with a smile, "but I can't read that chickenscratch. I know you love youkai books. My treat today, I hope it cheers you up while you wait for more business."

Kosuzu eagerly snatched the book from Mamizou. Sounded a little dry, but a youkai book was a youkai book. "Thank you, thank you! It'll be great to have something new to read. But..." Kosuzu got a gleam in her eye. "A youkai festival, now that sounds really interesting."

"Oh no you don't, missy. I see those gears turning in your head. A gathering of youkai is no place for a human from the village."

Mamizou was sounding like Kosuzu's parents here. "Hey, I'm not just some village girl! I'm acquainted with the Other Side now! The shrine maiden accepted me and everything!"

"Reimu's parties at the shrine aren't the same thing at all. The Hakurei Shrine is neutral ground, nobody wants to pick a fight with the shrine maiden. You don't understand, you have no idea what a real youkai gathering is like. I'm serious, Kosuzu, forget I said anything. I'll try to find you another book to tide you over to the village harvest festival, how about that?"

The problem with having Mamizou as a cool older sister figure was, she sometimes treated Kosuzu like an annoying kid sister. Kosuzu couldn't bear to end another dreary day in the village knowing there was a festival of youkai out there, but no matter how she begged and pleaded, Mamizou wouldn't let her tag along. The tanuki made her excuses and departed the shop, leaving Kosuzu fuming.

---

Kosuzu pulled her cloak tight around her body. The cloth was too thin for the chilly October evening, but she'd been in a hurry to grab what she could and lock up the store before she lost sight of her target. Mamizou was moving at a leisurely pace, enjoying the twilight stroll, but Kosuzu still had to scramble to keep up as she darted from bush to tree to stay out of sight, tailing the tanuki into the foothills of Youkai Mountain.

Mamizou thought she could just shut her out? Not a chance! If she "didn't know what a real youkai gathering was like", all the more reason to go see one herself.

...hopefully it wouldn't be too much further, though. Kosuzu wasn't cut out for this much exercise.

The first sign they were approaching their destination was the drums. A dull rhythmic pounding, starting on the edge of audibility, but as they drew closer, it grew into a deep, soul-shaking bass. POM-pom-pom POM-pom-pom, like an extra heartbeat drawing her forward. Mamizou seemed to pick up her speed hearing it, and Kosuzu was gasping in the cold air trying to keep up. She could see flickering firelight now, and hear a clamor of voices under the steady drumming. She pressed through a thicket of brush and she was there.

A great bonfire raged in a clearing at the bottom of a hill, surrounded by a throng of youkai bathed in firelight. The top of the hill was unoccupied, but there was some kind of wooden platform there, next to a chute made of bamboo that stretched down to the gathered youkai. Kosuzu climbed a tree at the edge of the clearing to get a better look at the congregation; there must have been over a hundred youkai there. All different varieties Kosuzu had seen in her books were mixed together - beastly forms and demonic ones, kitsune and kappa and tengu alongside rarer types of ghoul and goblin, including some that Kosuzu couldn't put a name to. That ugly lumpy one was probably a nuppeppou, right? And, no way, could the one with the long horns be an oni? There weren't supposed to be any in Gensokyo!

Mamizou was slowly moving through the crowd, taking her time for greetings and handshakes and backslaps and laughter. Kosuzu was too far away to hear what she was saying, but the other youkai clearly liked and respected her. Mamizou worked her way over to a group of other tanuki, and oh, that's where the drumbeats were coming from. The tanuki were slapping their bellies in rhythm to provide the gathering with music. Kosuzu giggled: the sound wasn't quite as soul-shaking now that she knew where it was coming from. She watched for a bit, but Mamizou didn't join in the drumming. A shame; Kosuzu would have died laughing to see her beating out POM-pom-pom on her tummy.

Kosuzu watched from her perch in the branches. Youkai continued arriving from all directions, and the sun sank below the horizon until the scene was lit only by the glow of the bonfire and the rising harvest moon. Seeing youkai cast in moonlight was an entirely different experience from reading about them in her books, or her few encounters with them in the village. Tonight, the youkai were in their element. In the dead of night under the light of the moon...

Kosuzu was shaken out of her reverie by a flash of purple light on top of the hill. The youkai fell silent as Yukari Yakumo, the notorious gap youkai and Sage of Gensokyo, appeared from one of her gaps. Following behind her, a half-dozen stark naked middle-aged human men slouched and shambled onto the wooden platform. They didn't react to the sight of the youkai mob or try to cover their bodies. They just stared blankly into space with their arms dangling at their sides.

"Youkai of Gensokyo!" Yukari called from the hilltop. Some youkai power or sage's technique made her voice boom out across the clearing. "Monsters, apparitions, creatures of the night! Welcome! I come to bring you this year's harvest!" A throaty cheer came up from the assembled crowd. "The unwanted cast-offs of the Outside World, we will accept them and give them new purpose! Tonight: we feast!" An even louder cheer erupted. Yukari waved her hands in the air to pump up the crowd and a yamanba ascended the hill, dragging a massive meat cleaver behind her, making for the men on the platform.

Kosuzu couldn't watch, but she certainly couldn't turn away. She stared numbly as the yamanba lifted her cleaver. The cut was quick and efficient, slicing open the neck of the one of the naked men, who offered no resistance. He simply crumpled in a heap in front of the bamboo chute, gushing blood from his gaping wound. His blood filled the bamboo channel and flowed down to the youkai at the bottom of the hill, who crowded around the crimson river to feed. The more bestial youkai crouched over the sluice like a trough and lapped at it, while the civilized among them dipped cups or drinking dishes in the flow. The man, the corpse, was bleeding more profusely than Kosuzu would have thought possible, but none of the precious red liquid that had been his life was going to make it past the ravenous youkai to the end of the sluice.

The remaining sacrifices were just standing on the platform, uncomprehending or uncaring, not even shivering in the cold night. Simply waiting their turn. When the flow of blood from the first man slowed to a trickle, Yukari pushed another toward the yamanba. She slashed him open with the exact same stroke in the exact same location, showing the bored precision of one who had been doing the same thing for years. Decades? Centuries?

Once the new corpse had been set up bleeding out into the sluice, the yamanba dragged the first, drained body back to the platform, where a pair of kamaitachi had whirled up to help with the butchery. Their blade-like claws ripped through the man's flesh like it was origami paper. The two peeled the skin, cracked the joints, and dismembered the corpse with the same clinical efficiency as the yamanba. They carved out neat fillets of human flesh and arranged the man's organs into tidy portions, and then placed these packets one by one into the bamboo chute. The surface of the bamboo was slick with blood, and the meat slid freely down the hill to the waiting youkai below who roared with delight and jockeyed to snatch up the best bits.

Kosuzu watched queasily.

Youkai eat people. That was a fact fundamental to the very existence of youkai, the role they played in society.

Youkai eat people. Every child in the village knew that fact; as soon as they were able to walk their parents warned them not to wander off or the youkai would get them.

Youkai eat people. Kosuzu hadn't forgotten that fact, exactly. It just hadn't seemed important when the world of youkai held so many fascinating things to explore.

Youkai eat people. Now that fact was the only important thing in the world, as a third man was slaughtered like a chicken in front of her.

As she watched in horror, something even more ghastly occurred to her. If Mamizou is here, then that means... She scanned the party of youkai and found Mamizou sitting and chatting with the other tanuki. She had a length of intestine held in her fingers, dangling freely, the sophisticated big sister's hands stained with blood. Kosuzu's heart fell and her stomach knotted up as she watched Mamizou take a big, juicy bite of a man's entrails. Watching the woman she thought she knew sup on human meat, chewing and laughing along with her other man-eating friends, Kosuzu's stomach wasn't just knotted: at this point her own digestive organs revolted. Today's lunch forced itself up and out of her, setting her heaving, retching, spewing. Her body was wracked with convulsions as she vomited, and suddenly she lost her grip on her branch and swung precariously over empty air. With a blind, desperate flail, she grabbed at another branch, but it was too thin to hold her and with a SNAP it gave way. Wind blew through Kosuzu's hair as the ground raced towards her, and she fell to earth with a painful crash. An impact hard enough to knock her unconscious, and one loud enough to draw the attention of the youkai.

---

When Kosuzu swam back to a woozy wakefulness and opened her eyes, she was surrounded by the leering faces of youkai. Mamizou was among them; she wasn't sure that was reassuring.

"Good, you're awake," said a woman with a fanged mouth on the back of her head. Kosuzu's head pounded as she stared at the blood dripping down the woman's nape/chin. "It wouldn't do for you to miss your first harvest festival."

"Not to worry!" said a crab youkai, clacking his claws together jovially. "I saved you something. I snagged a piece of liver, and this fellow was a heavy drinker. Only the best for Mamizou's new protege!" He lifted something towards Kosuzu and she stared at it blankly.

"Hey, now, show a little delicacy," Mamizou said, snatching away the crab's piece of meat. "There ought to be a sense of ceremony here. You only ever get one first bite, y'know? Don't rush the girl."

Mamizou pulled Kosuzu aside from the other youkai and hissed in her ear. "You shouldn't have come here, this is no place for a human! They almost ate you on the spot."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" whimpered Kosuzu. "Just get me out of here. I want to go home." Her body ached, her hands were freezing, her mouth tasted like puke, and she was surrounded by man-eating monsters.

"It's too late for that, girl. I had to feed these youkai a story to explain what you were doing here." Mamizou's face held an intense expression Kosuzu had never seen on her. Was that anger? Pity? "I told them you were a newborn youkai. A former human I'd been corrupting for a long time, and you were finally ready to debut in society. You just must not have been used to flying yet, and you made a crash landing. A little tanuki disguise helped sell it, some fake wings, but now you have to act the part. There's only one thing a youkai comes to a festival like this to do."

Kosuzu felt along her spine. There were wings there, all right, woven from leaves and stuck to the back of her cloak. She looked at the black morsel in Mamizou's hand. "You want me to..."

"It's eat or be eaten, girlie. They're buying it for now, but it won't last. No time to be squeamish, this is the only way out. Otherwise a little more meat is gonna be added to this year's harvest."

Kosuzu took the floppy lump of liver. It was cold and slimy in her hands. Would it be better if there were still some body warmth in it? Kosuzu remembered the sad, empty men waiting in line to be butchered. Maybe there was no warmth there to begin with.

"Go on," Mamizou urged. "If you wait too long they'll suspect something."

Kosuzu raised the piece of meat to her mouth and almost swooned again as the earthy, bloody smell assailed her nostrils. She paused a moment, hoping for something to happen, to pull her away from this. Maybe at the last second, for no reason, the shrine maiden would come swooping in, beat up all the youkai and carry her to safety? She cried out for Reimu in her heart and waited a dozen long heartbeats with the liver on her lips. All that happened was the crowd around her growing restless. A one-eyed, one-legged youkai furrowed its eyebrow at her mistrustfully. Her mind filled with images of cleavers cutting open her arteries, claws slicing through her tendons and scraping her meat from her bones.

There was nothing she could do but play it out.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tore a hunk out of the cold liver with her teeth. A sharp meaty taste covered her tongue. She choked the mouthful down as fast as possible, without chewing. That was a mistake; it meant she felt it all the way down as it worked through her gullet. She shuddered with revulsion each time her esophagus contracted to squeeze the piece of meat down towards her stomach. She wanted to throw up, but she clenched her teeth and held it down with sheer force of will. When the bite had settled in her gut, she opened her eyes and saw Mamizou give an encouraging smile and motion to the remaining portion in her hands. She looked down; she'd eaten less than a quarter of it. She had to keep going.

She took her next bite a little slower, in the hopes it would go down easier. She chewed it to pieces and noticed notes in the flavor she'd missed in the first bite - rich and strong, almost like firm fermented natto. Her heart raced and her mind spun. What was this? The gritty texture of raw liver coated her mouth, teeth, and throat as she swallowed. A warmth spread through her stomach as she digested, sickly and feverish. Keep going, you have to keep going. Her third bite was careful. This flavor was shocking and she had to explore it. Nothing she'd ever eaten in the village was like this. Of course, she'd never eaten another human being before. She could have, should have gone her whole life not knowing this taste. She chewed slowly, savoring the slippery, tangy, coppery mouthful. By her fourth bite she was tearing greedily into the meat with her fangs. It was delicious! The liver of an alcoholic man from the Outside World was delicious! The humans of the village had no idea! Her fifth bite she devoured without chewing again, so eager was she for the meat, and when the it was gone, she licked the juice from her claws with her forked tongue.

Mamizou clapped her on the back and laughed. "Welcome to the Other Side, kid! You finally made it. It took you long enough! We can talk more later, there's some people you need to meet and a lot you need to know about how things work for us. But for tonight, enjoy the party! There might still be some goodies left over there, if you hurry."

The bamboo sluice was still wetted with blood; it looked like the ambrosia of the gods to Kosuzu. Something inside her was screaming and weeping, but it was growing quieter by the second, drowned out by her newfound desires. She wasn't cold anymore, wasn't bruised or nauseated; all she was was hungry. She lurched over to find more meat. That was what she needed, more meat.

Every child of the village knows it.

Youkai eat people.

Keiki's alarm woke her at the crack of dawn and immediately received divine retribution by way of danmaku.

The noise it made as it clattered to the floor was satisfying at least. Really, she'd love to take a hammer to the damned thing, but she needed every second of time she could wring out of her day, and that meant getting up at gods-forsaken hours of the morning. (Oh, how she wished she could actually forsake them.)

Groaning, she lifted herself off of the desk she'd nodded off at, shaking her head blearily as she considered the designs in front of her. She hadn't gotten as far with the hwacha as she would have liked, but the idea was solid. Firing off hundreds of arrows at once should demolish a Gouyoku charge, but the weapon as-is was actually too powerful. It didn't take much to disrupt an eagle spirit, and the initial prototype would tear through the charge... along with several houses wherever the bolts came raining down. Doubling the number of bolts should preserve the infrastructure, but still risked the humans as collateral damage.

Maybe she should treat it as an anti-Keiga weapon instead. It wouldn't be as effective, but firing at grounded foes would at least mean she didn't need to worry about the bolts landing somewhere else. Ugh, but her haniwa did need better anti-air. Perhaps some sort of explosive payload, make sure they all detonated midair?

"Lady Keiki?" A voice came from the door. "Are you up?"

Damnit, more fires to put out. "Just a second!" she called out, grabbing the pen and scribbling some quick notes for future work.

Okay, she'd slept in her clothes, so that saved a couple minutes. The goddess grabbed a comb and yanked it through her hair a couple of times so it wasn't completely obvious she'd crashed at her desk again, and started retying her headkerchief as she opened the door. To her despair there were no fewer than five haniwa there to greet her. Mayumi was expected, but the others weren't, which indicated some issues had cropped up overnight.

Not the worst wakeup call she'd ever had, but it was up there.

She eyed her options. Most of the haniwa had a full sheafs of documents and files in hand... likely meeting notes and the supporting documentation for whatever problems had popped up. Mayumi, on the other hand, was holding coffee, which she snapped up immediately.

She closed her eyes with a sharp inhale as the bitter taste hit her tongue and woke her the rest of the way up. Her dear lance corporal was frankly terrible at brewing coffee, but not only did the thought count for quite a bit, but any source of caffeine was a life saver at this hour of the morning.

Of course, keeping her eyes closed wouldn't do anything to remove the problems that needed solving, so after a moment's more procrastination, she got to work.

"Right, military first," she turned to Mayumi, giving her a nod. "Report."

"Yes, Lady Keiki." Mayumi snapped off a quick salute. "Despite the lack of fortifications, Alumina street was quiet all night. The beast spirits have recognized the reinforced haniwa presence in the area, and decided to probe the defenses elsewhere. With one exception, these were minor attacks, easily repelled - testing our awareness more than any serious assault."

Keiki nodded. It was the same song and dance the last couple times they'd taken territory. "And the exception?"

A different haniwa saluted forcefully, standing to attention so rigidly it made Keiki's spine ache just looking at him. "Skirmish between Matriarch Kurokoma and Matriarch Kicchou, ma'am! Location in Loam district, southern edge, estimated casualties zero human spirits, two haniwa wounded in action. The incident began at 23:18 last night, duration six minutes twelve seconds, instigated by a serious of insults from Matriarch Kicchou-"

She resisted the urge to sigh. This one was clearly wound a bit too tight - he must be right out of the factory. "Just the summary is fine, private."

"Yes ma'am!" He saluted again, hard enough to rattle the clay at his temple. "During the fight, Matriarch Kurokoma kicked a water tower into our fortifications! No incursion, but significant breaks in the outer wall and the inner wall has been cracked, ma'am!"

"And it'd be too much to hope that either of them were injured?"

Another salute. "No ma'am!"

Of course not. Silly of her to ask, really. She paused, turning to Mayumi. "Do we have forces we can stretch to cover?"

Mayumi nodded, pulling out a folded map and passing it to the goddess. "Already done, my lady. I transferred over one of the archery squads from Ceramic district, and placed them on the inner wall. The gap should serve as target practice if any animal spirits dare to try it. It leaves Ceramic a little under strength, but it's close enough to Alumina to be easily reinforced if need be."

A quick scan of the map confirmed her subordinate's analysis - though also that the haniwa numbers overall were thinner than she'd like. Once she got Alumina properly fortified, she'd need to return to haniwa production. Another battalion or two would have made this far smoother, but claiming those apartment buildings had waited too long as it was. The humans' current conditions were... livable, but that was the best that could be said about them. It was far too easy to let strategic concerns trump humanitarian ones, and from there it was a slippery slope to treating them as resources.

“I approve, but take the prototype hwacha in workshop three,” she decided. “Mount it in Loam District, make sure it's aiming down into the gaps."

Mayumi nodded. “Deterrent or bait?”

“I’d like less trouble over the next week, but I trust your judgement. If you think popping a few animal spirits now will result in fewer attacks later, go for it.”

That drew a slight smile from Mayumi as she saluted. “I’ll hide the artillery. The animal spirits won’t know what hit them.”

Keiki nodded, smiling. “I look forwards to hearing it. Dismissed.”

As her military haniwa left, Keiki eyed the other two haniwa present. Both administrative models, her economic advisor and one of the construction crew foremen… and both with enough paperwork in hand to fill a briefcase. They glanced at each other, and after a silent contest of wills, the foreman stepped forward.

“Lady Keiki,” the haniwa drew out the first sheet. “There’s several things, but the most urgent is the brickwork in apartment building four. Specifically on the fifth floor… it’s crap, frankly. Not outright broken, which is why we missed it in the initial sweep, but it needs replacing, at least two years ago.”

No rest for the wicked, it seemed.

---

Mayumi was usually worried when a lone figure approached her troops at speed. The only ones who would dare were Matriarchs, and as it turned out, a few specific, very unusual humans. Recognizing it as one of the latter meant it probably wasn't dangerous... though possibly more time consuming.

"Hey there, Mayumi!" the black and white human leaped off her broom, landing smoothly a few feet from the haniwa. "How's tricks?"

"You must have me mistaken for a kiketsu," Mayumi said. "A haniwa has no need for tricks."

Marisa nodded in a friendly fashion, catching her broom as it followed her down. "Yeah, sure, but you know what I mean."

Mayumi hesitated. She'd meant for her response to be a classic straight man response based off of an overly literal interpretation of Marisa's colloquialism, but the witch had taken it seriously. Had her studies of humor been inadequate?

She shook her head. She could try again another time.

"Busy, mostly." the haniwa went with. "The gangs have been as active as ever, and while Lady Keiki is more than equal to the task, there are more than enough tasks to go around. What of yourself?"

“Oh, the usual. Figured I’d check how things are going down here after the whole beast gangs invading the surface bit,” Marisa said. “Surprised I didn’t see you guys during all that.”

Mayumi shrugged, facing the witch directly. “We needed to retake some territory after a possessed human defeated Lady Keiki.”

“Ah.” The once-possessed human looked a bit awkward at that. “Yeah, I guess that’s fair.”

There was a momentary silence at that, as Marisa cast around for another topic, and found one in the buildings surrounding them. "Regardless though, seems like you’re doing pretty well for yourselves now. Lotta new construction going on."

"We only took this district a few days ago," Mayumi explained. "The apartment buildings as we found them were only suitable for beasts, so there's various repairs and 'quality of life' improvements that need to be made before the human spirits can move in."

Come to think of it, had that been a joke? Quality of life, spirits of the dead... Mayumi didn't think it was funny, but she'd been wrong before.

"Sounds like pretty good stuff to be working on." The witch leaned back, kicking a rock idly. "So what's eating you?"

The lance corporal sighed. "It is work I cannot meaningfully assist with. Lady Keiki is busy, terribly so, but none of this work requires a soldier. I simply was not built to fix plumbing, route electrical cables, or lay bricks, and my efforts to learn were unproductive." An understatement, in truth. Humor was easy compared to the craftsmanship her lady embodied. "My goddess is working sixteen hour days, while I can do nothing but stand guard against a foe that is not attacking."

"So why not get her to slow down?" Marisa asked. "Build a few construction worker haniwa, let her work some more reasonable hours? You guys have been at this for years, right?"

"Nineteen years, three hundred and fifty nine days," she confirmed. "Lady Keiki feels strongly about having the apartment buildings officially finished before the week is up."

"Oh, I see." the human nodded understandingly. "Gotta have them ready for the big celebration, I take it?"

"Celebration?" Mayumi looked at her blankly.

"You know, the big party they're throwing?"

"The apartments aren't large enough for a big party," she corrected. "Though I suppose a moderate amount of 'partying' from individual tenants is both acceptable and likely unavoidable."

Mayumi suddenly found her path blocked and a giant witch's hat obscuring most of her vision. "Woah, woah woah! Are you saying it's about to be twenty years, to the day, since your goddess arrived in the underground, and you're not doing anything?"

"I believe the topic arose last year? Lady Keiki said it would be pompous of her to celebrate her own arrival."

"Well yeah, it's not right for her to make a celebration for herself, but that doesn't mean you can't make one for her."

Considering the haniwa was the goddess's right hand, the distinction felt academic. Unless... "Is this like that birthday thing?"

"Yes!"

"But years are just one type of time measurement," she said. "What makes them more worth celebrating than, say, a hundred thousand days or a thousand weeks? The Animal Realm doesn't even have true seasons to mark."

Marisa paused, giving her a considering look. "For real, do you even know what a party is?"

"As I understand it... the concept is to spend a lot of money to consume copious amounts of alcohol, so that your wits can be addled for the evening and you can feel a splitting headache in the morning." The soldier thought about it for a few more seconds. "Oh, and there's the possibility of additional fun activities, such as vomiting, blacking out, and losing memories of your addled state."

"Parties aren't like-" she winced. "Not every party is like that."

Mayumi didn't say anything. She didn't need to.

"Right, let's try this from another angle." Marisa decided. "Keiki's important to you, right? And to all these human spirits too?"

"Obviously." The question was borderline insulting. "She's my goddess."

"Of course," Marisa nodded, "The thing is, one of the things people do is that when something really good happens, they want to celebrate it. Mark the occasion, have a day to remember it, to bring people together and just be like 'hey, this is a really good thing'. Once a year is just about right for that sort of thing - not so long you forget it, but not so often that it stops being meaningful. And I bet the human spirits were overjoyed when Keiki showed up the first time."

"You mean to have a day in Lady Keiki's honor." Mayumi realized, turning thoughtful. "Something where everyone can show how much she means to us."

It made sense. Lady Keiki always seemed to be in a better mood after the human spirits thanked her for things, even when she said it wasn't necessary... so perhaps a realm-wide show of gratitude would be fitting. It could even be argued to be practical, given how the goddess could gain power from worship!

"Exactly! You can call it a crafts festival, or anniversary, or maybe holy day..."

"Liberation Day," she decided. "That is what Lady Keiki's arrival meant for these souls. It is why we fight, and why the humans worship her."

"That's... huh. You've got a better idea of what you're doing than I thought."

"Well, maybe." Mayumi scratched the back of her head, sheepishly. "Could you tell me about one of these festivals?"

Rui was a sculptor. Or rather, she had been one, all those centuries ago when she’d been alive. These days… well, she’d managed to cram a potter’s wheel into her little shack, and every once in a while she’d collect the occasional bag of clay from the riverbank, but she was fooling herself if she fancied it anything but a stubborn refusal to fully give up her once-profession. These days she was just an old woman.

She rolled over on her bed, grabbing the book she’d left on the floor and flipping through it idly. The murder mystery was okay, she guessed, and she had finished a couple of the author’s other books, but she just wasn’t really invested in this one. She couldn’t tell if the book itself was worse or if she just wasn’t in the mood, but it wasn’t really gripping her.

Rui read it anyway. Wasn’t like she had much better to do. Maybe one of these chapters the dame would do more than just gaze longingly at the handsome detective.

The knock at her door got her attention, though it had to be repeated a couple times to get her moving. She considered pretending to be asleep, but whoever it was sounded persistent, so she dropped the novel on her bed and walked over to the door, picking up her cane on the way. She didn’t truly need it, but it was nice to have and gave her an excuse for being grouchy.

She yanked open the door, glaring at the haniwa on the other side.

“You’re late.”

The haniwa took a step back, looking confused. “I was not aware we had an appointment?”

“You mean we don’t? Then good-bye!” She slammed the door shut.

Rui then immediately checked through the peephole at the haniwa looking absolutely gobsmacked. She chuckled at the absurdity, before belatedly recognizing the figure in question as the single most important haniwa in the entire hell. Which worried part of her, but most had stopped giving a damn long ago, and Mayumi Joutouguu looking that out of sorts just made it that much funnier.

To the girl’s credit, she did shake it off and knock politely on the door once again. The old woman took a second to quell her laughter, and opened it with her best stern look.

“I suppose this means you’ve got something important, then?”

The haniwa double-checked a piece of paper. “Yes. To confirm, am I speaking to Rui Kozan?”

She peered closely at the plain-as-day yellow armor. “Aye, that’s me. And who might you be, sonny?”

Mayumi stuttered, clearly not expecting to need to identify herself. “Lance Corporal Mayumi Joutouguu.”

“The Lance Corporal herself!” She paused as an idea struck her, and took a grim tone. “Ah, you must be here to deliver the bad news in person.”

“I… what?”

Rui sniffed, wiping an imaginary tear from her eye. “He was such a brave boy. Could you at least tell me… was it quick?”

“I am not here regarding a tragedy of any kind!” The haniwa pleaded. She took a deep breath, straightening up. “I’m here because I was informed you’re a potter.”

She stopped her shenanigans, looking at the haniwa curiously. “I might have been. What of it? My work’s nothing to shake a stick at, but not like it can match the creations of a goddess.”

Ironically, her skills had seen more use with the beasts. The Keiga were brutes, there was no denying that, but they weren’t so animalistic as to avoid the use of cups, bowls, and plates. As someone who could make a couple hundred in a few weeks, her skills were in high demand. It wasn’t like she missed the slave driving wolves, but still.

“May I see it?” Mayumi asked.

Wait, that was actually interesting. Why on earth would one of Keiki’s creations care about a merely human potter? Still, Rui wasn’t going to turn down some actual interest. “Suit yourself.”

She walked over to her closet, opening up the door to reveal layer upon layer of stacked earthenware dishes. “Finished this lot a couple weeks ago, on account of those new apartments opening up.”

The haniwa picked up a bowl, tilting it this way and that as she looked at the mottled green sheen. “You were planning to sell these?”

“If I can find buyers.” She shrugged. “I’m hoping the upgrade from shoebox to closet will make a few brain cells rub together and get people realizing they’ve got room for a few luxuries.”

Mayumi looked aghast. “Common dishware is a luxury?”

“Of course not!” Rui whacked the haniwa with her cane. Second most important figure in the Animal Realm, or not, that was too much. “But my dishes are. They’re not just some flat stone or piece of metal, they’re art.”

The haniwa didn’t so much as flinch from the blow, setting down the bowl carefully. “You consider this high quality craftsmanship, then?”

Something about the whippersnapper’s tone set her off. “Each one of those is hours of work! Maybe your fancy goddess can take shortcuts but for me? I have to throw the clay, shape it, be careful to make it larger than it actually needs for stability before tilling away the excess, carving out the little foot ring in the bottom here.” She flipped over the bowl, showing off the brown ring of waxed clay it stood on. “Then the initial bisque firing to deal with moisture and make it absorbent, carefully waxing the bottom to get the base just right, and applying the glaze. And then I get to wait a couple days for it to dry, then I need to clean up the powdery glaze, which is dull and tedious and the dust gets everywhere, but that’s the difference between good craftsmanship and clay slop, and my reward for all that is the actual kiln firing! Nine hours of baby-sitting the damn furnace, then two days to wait for it to cool, and only then do I find out if I have a shining piece of art or a cracked piece of trash.”

… she’d lost her cool there a bit. More than a bit, really, but it felt good to rant to someone who would sit there and take it, and Mayumi seemed unaccountably pleased. “Could you teach this to someone? Preferably a group of people?”

Rui scoffed. “How many years you got?”

“You’d have an afternoon.”

That earned her another whack from the cane. “Weren’t you listening, ya daft pottery? Creating a complete piece, even the simplest of bowls takes most of a week! I don’t know what kind of bulk crafter scheme you think you’re hatching, but-”

“My apologies, I believe I’ve given you a mistaken impression.”

There was some steel to that and Rui hesitated. Had she pushed her luck too far? But Mayumi merely smiled. “Truthfully, your impassioned defense of pottery as art is exactly what I’d hoped. I’m setting up a celebration for Lady Keiki in a few days, and one of the elements is impressing on someone just why her sculpting is so impressive.”

Rui raised an eyebrow. “You mean besides the results conquering a city?”

Mayumi waved it off. “Oh, there will be a parade as well. But while Lady Keiki is indeed our leader and commander in chief, at her core she is a sculptor goddess. A purely military celebration would be missing the point.” The haniwa leaned in. “But for that, I need craftsmen. Humans such as you that can speak with enthusiasm while holding the same depth of knowledge that I possess for military matters.”

That… that really was interesting. Fascinating, even. “So what exactly did you have in mind?”

“You would be part of the crafting festival. Essentially an open-air shop, where you demonstrate the various steps of the pottery process, speak on it as an expert, and walk any interested humans through crafting their own.” Mayumi paused. “You’d be compensated for your time and materials, and I encourage you to display and sell your wares.”

As if she’d miss that chance. Though it wouldn’t do to be too obviously interested. “You want me to take a whole day of my time to babysit a bunch of beginners through making slapdash pots?”

“What better way to demonstrate the work of an expert than to contrast the efforts of amateurs? “Besides, unless I’m greatly mistaken,” Mayumi paused, and gave a slight smirk. “It’s not as though you have anything better to do.”

She wasn’t expecting the snark after all that polite seriousness, and Rui laughed. “Fair enough, fair enough! But you do realize, I’m good, but I’m not entertain thousands of human spirits by myself good. You’re going to need more people.”

“I’m aware of that,” Mayumi said, a bit of tiredness finally showing. “I’ve got a list I’m working through, but if there’s any other skilled craftsmen you’d recommend…”

Good, she had a bit of a head on her shoulders. Rui nodded, throwing her a bone. “Sure, I know a couple. But first things first, let’s talk price.”

Mayumi got a hunted look at that, and Rui’s smile grew. Oh, she’d cut Keiki’s haniwa a deal in the end… but she’d make the girl work for it first.

---

It had been a long week, but it was finally ending.

Keiki had made it. Late nights had blended into early mornings, and she wasn’t quite sure if she’d slept at all last night… but it was done. At 3:55 AM on the morning of the twentieth anniversary of her initial foray into the Animal Realm, the last windowpane was installed, and the Alumina Street Apartments were officially ready for the human spirits to move in.

She had then crashed in the nearest bed, which was conveniently both in the same apartment, and mercifully free of her damned alarm clock. She’d earned that eight hours of sleep, damn it… and she was considering claiming more. This bed wasn’t quite as comfy as hers, but it was right beneath her, and the covers were nice and warm.

"Lady Keiki?" A voice came from the door. "Are you up?"

She didn’t want to be. But that was Mayumi’s voice… and if the haniwa had chased her down, it was probably important. She stifled a groan.

“Sure thing, one second.”

She actually hadn’t slept in her clothes, if purely because they’d been too filthy to sleep in. But Mayumi had arrived with a fresh outfit, and coffee. Keiki wordlessly accepted both, went to the bathroom to change and- had she gotten someone else to make it? It was good coffee.

Regardless, that unexpected blessing left her mood greatly improved, and a few minutes later she was awake, presentable, and ready for whatever new horrors the Animal Realm had to throw at her.

… which must be pretty bad, because Mayumi wasn’t speaking up.

“Is everything alright?” she asked. “You seem nervous.”

“Well, it’s just one thing,” Mayumi shifted, fiddling with her armor. “I could explain, but I really think it’s better to show you. It’s not far, just outside!”

Mayumi started moving towards the door immediately, and the goddess followed. “I don’t mind taking a look for myself, but you might as well explain on the way.”

“I’d… rather get your opinion without me, uh, setting expectations.” Mayumi tried, not looking at her.

Keiki paused, and Mayumi grabbed her wrist, trying to pull her along. She pulled back, putting her hands on her hips as she gave the haniwa a stern look.

“Mayumi, is something going on?”

“Nothing bad, I’ll explain everything outside.” she said. She looked up, both nervous and earnest, and desperately hopeful. “Please, Lady Keiki?”

Huh. That wasn’t how Mayumi approached problems at- oh. She’d never said it was a problem she was taking Keiki to see, had she?

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve done,” Keiki allowed, letting the girl continue pulling her along.

The haniwa didn’t say anything else on their way down the steps and Keiki considered what might be going on. It was clearly meant to be some sort of surprise for her… a visit from one of the humans, perhaps? Or maybe the Yama had stopped by. It was also possible this was about her anniversary… though if it was, she hoped Mayumi hadn’t tried to bake anything. The girl meant well, but her digestion hadn’t recovered from the last attempt at a birthday cake.

Those thoughts occupied her until they reached the lobby, where an honor guard of haniwa were waiting. As one they saluted and formed up around her, and Mayumi ran off to speak with another haniwa in the corner of the room - was that her economic advisor? The lance corporal came back and gave the other haniwa a nod, as they started marching forwards, opening the double doors as they streamed out in full parade mode.

It was obvious Keiki was meant to follow, and she did, now even more curious about the surprise, and as she exited, she shielded her eyes against the blaze of lights - the illumination of hundreds of lamps, torches and spotlights rivaling the sun. And as the glare died down, she found herself lost for words.

The crowd was larger than the one she’d seen when she’d first made her stand against the gangs, when they’d flocked to the first god in millenia to prove victorious down here. They were packed shoulder to shoulder, stretching all the way down the street, each holding a torch.

“And finally, the lady you’ve all been waiting for!” Someone announced - wait, was that Marisa? “You all know her, she’s the goddess of goddesses, and I mean that literally, ‘cause she can just make more of them, as all the animal spirits found out! She’s your protector, your liberator, and the strongest goddess I’ve ever fought - let’s make some noise for Keiki Haniyasushin!”

The roar of the human spirits was deafening, as they waved the torches and cheered for all they’re worth. Some half-remembered public speaking kicked in and Keiki waved at the crowd, and the cheering only intensified, the surge of noise and faith nearly knocking her off her feet.

She turned to Mayumi, feeling dazed. “When did you- I thought the haniwa were all busy!”

“We were. But Marisa reminded me of something - humans can do a lot of things,” Mayumi said shyly. “And there were a lot of human spirits who were thrilled to help set this up.”

“Don’t sell yourself too short!” Marisa said, landing nearby with a megaphone still in hand. “Mayumi here’s been sleeping as little as you have trying to set the whole thing up.”

“Oh?”

The haniwa went even more bashful. “I couldn’t have done it without help. Without Marisa explaining everything, I wouldn’t have known where to start.”

“You haven’t even seen the best part!” Marisa exclaimed. “A couple streets down, by the plaza, she’s got like thirty stalls of various works showing off their craft. Sculptors, artists, bakers, fishermen - you name it! And not just showing it, half of them let you try it out yourself.” She grinned. “Once the parade’s done, I’m gonna try making taiyaki.”

“You organized a parade as well?” Keiki asked.

Mayumi nodded, passing her one last bit of paperwork - a flyer, showing the layout of the festival, with all the stalls and the planned parade route and times.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to lead the parade or not, so I left that ambiguous…”

As Mayumi kept going over details, Keiki closed the flyer, seeing the image on the front. It was a picture of herself, chisels raised, haniwa at her side, defending a crowd of human spirits behind her. Her eyes misting up, she read the words at the bottom.

Liberation Day
A celebration of Keiki Haniyasushin, our goddess and protector.

“...and two thirds of the human spirits refused payment, so costs were low.” Mayumi was still talking. “I invited Reimu and Youmu as well, both to show good faith and as insurance if the matriarchs try anything-”

“Mayumi.”

The haniwa fell silent instantly, looking up at Keiki nervously.

The goddess wiped her eyes, smiling. “This is wonderful. Thank you.”

She went to bow, but Keiki was having none of that. This was something a dear friend did, and she rewarded it accordingly, wrapping the girl in a hug. Mayumi froze, blushing heavily and looking mortally embarrassed… but also smiling.

“And Marisa, thank you for your help in setting this up,” Keiki turned to the magician. “You’re going to make me build that life-size Marisa haniwa at this rate.”

“Er, you really don’t have to…”

Keiki laughed. “I’m sure we can work something out. But first, I believe there was something about a parade?”

“Yes!” Mayumi seized on it. “It’s scheduled to begin in five minutes, so if you want to lead it-”

“I’d love to,” she said earnestly.

“G-Great!” Mayumi stuttered, still blushing.

“Looks like you two have this well in hand,” Marisa grinned. “I’m gonna go check out those craft stands, but seriously, good job, Mayumi. It looks like this will be a celebration to remember.”

Keiki watched her go, her gaze turning to the crowds of still-cheering people. At the human spirits and haniwa all here for her sake. She found herself nearly tearing up again, smiling brightly.

“It already is,” she whispered. “It already is.”

Hail, Kochiya Sanae, Living God and Wind Priestess of the Moriya Shrine!

I humbly speak before you to request your presence at a celebration of you gods of Gensokyo, on the eve of winter.

We will be holding a Samhain festival, an ancient rite of the pre-Christian Gaelic peoples of Europe. As summer ended and winter began, they would ask their gods and ancestors for guidance in the new year. As one originally from the outside world. You likely know of the modern holiday of Halloween, and notice that it coincides with Samhain – that is because it was derived from Samhain. I assure you, it has nothing to do with a certain jealous god, or even his scorned creation!

There will be offerings (We will not be serving human flesh), markets, rituals, music, performances, and much more.

The festivities begin officially at sunset. As a courtesy, please present this invitation to our gatekeeper as you arrive.

I also hope that the attached chocolates are to your taste as well.

Yours faithfully,

Remilia Scarlet

---

Past the shroud of mist and the gates of the Scarlet estate, the myriad gods of Gensokyo had gathered. They took varied forms; human, all kinds of beasts, animate objects, some who could only be described abstractly. Technicolor lightning flashed across the near firmament, accompanied by the thunder of battle. It seemed some of the gods were already fighting in danmaku matches.

Kanako bellowed laughter as she entered, turning heads and drawing eyes to the trio. Several great Mishaguji serpents trailed along behind them as they entered, framing the group against their white scaled underbellies.

“I don’t think I’ve seen so many gods gathered in one place!”

“It’s a rare occurrence; quite impressive on that vampire’s part.” Kanako surveyed the garden, then struck out toward a congregation loosely gathered around a bonfire and tables of offerings. “Most of the time some fight starts, or someone tries executing some plot… And in general, there’s a lot of politicking. Quite different from those quaint Hakurei Shrine drinking parties.” She stopped suddenly and turned to fully face Sanae. “I’m sure I’ll be approached by someone as soon as I get within radius. If you’d like to go on your own now, you’re excused.”

Sanae bowed. “Are you sure, Lady Kanako?” Though she was sure that Kanako meant what she said, eyes and ears were upon them; it was best practice to be as considerate as possible.

“Yes.”

“I will excuse myself then.” She bowed yet again. “Thank you, lady Kanako,” and she turned as well to the smaller god, “thank you, lady Suwako.” Then she turned to leave-

“Sanae, aren’t you forgetting something?” Suwako tilted her head to the Mishaguji, who were all busy scanning the surroundings with their piercing red slit eyes.

“Ah, forgive me!”

She began to bow to each of the snakes in turn, but was interrupted again by Suwako fervently waving her hands, mirth clear on her face. “I’m joking, I’m joking! Go on, kid, go on.”

Sanae laughed as well, before giving more thanks and goodbyes and waves which were acknowledged by raised hands as she left her gods to converse among themselves.

She made her way over to one of the offering tables – well, there were more than just tables. There were grills also, operated by serious-faced, squat, green hobgoblins. It was rare to see them out in the open at the SDM. the occasion must have allowed for it.… Fairies also flitted about the garden. Less than half of them seemed to be working; the others gossiped among guests and coworkers or watched the fights. All were dressed in thick tartan patterned woolen tunics, and blue markings like overlapping vines decorated their faces. The goblins had opted for full face patterns, and the fairies for much cuter cheek markings.

She was about to approach one for food until a flash of autumn red caught her eye. She caught it and followed the dress’s leaf-cutout hem up to the huffing face of… Which one? Ah, Aki Shizuha!

Shizuha barely noticed Sanae as she approached. She seemed to be engrossed by the flora on display in the garden – Oh, right! She’s the god of autumn leaves.

Sanae called out to her, and the god turned to face her. “Well, there’s another evergreen.”

Sanae giggled, “You flatter me, Miss Aki: it’s all thanks to my skincare routine!”

The god seemed taken aback, but soon recovered. “I meant the color of your hair! You don’t go orange for the autumn, do you?”

“Well, if I went orange for Autumn, I’d also have to go bare for the winter, right?” The god flashed a toothy smile, but before she could interject, Sanae said, “I must ask, you seemed to be busy before we spoke– this is a celebration of gods such as yourself, so why not relax?”

“Because the leaves here need painting.” Was her immediate answer. She shook her head. “There are so many foreign plants here that are hard to identify, and I’ve only got this opportunity to do it because I’m barred from entry ever since that damned witch got caught sneaking in here disguised as me…” The god snorted and crossed her arms.

Sanae refrained from looking at the burning orange canopy around them. It seems that nature had taken its course without her. “How sad.” She said, hoping to change the subject, “I don’t want to cut our talk short, but I’m quite hungry… is your sister running a sweet potato stall here?”

The god was caught mid-breath and let the rest come out in a sigh. “Yeah. Follow me.”

---

She finally spotted Kanako, who had stood up at her table and raised her hand at Sanae – she’d probably spotted her searching around for them.

She hurried to join them and saw that her gods were seated with the newcomers from the pyramid: The new shrine regular Yuiman Asama, who seemed to have loaded up a bowl full of venison and was happily chewing through it; and the god of permanence Ariya Iwanaga, whose eyes darted around in response to occasional flashes of color and noise. They all turned in their stools to watch her approach.

Sanae had to make sure her smile didn’t falter… They were lovely people, but the shame of failing to defeat that yokai in the pyramid still stung.

When Sanae reached the table, she bowed as deeply as she could with armfuls of roasted sweet potatoes. She had to ask the gods to help clear space on the table so she could put down her offering.

“Take a seat.” Kanako gestured to the empty seat next to her. “Sweet potatoes?” Kanako asked as Sanae sat down, “Did you buy them off that harvest god? We saw you talking with her sister.”

“Yes! They’re quite lovely. Very humble.”

Though Sanae didn’t intend it Kanako prickled a little at that, shaking her head. “I suppose when your existence hinges on people not knowing how trees shed their leaves, you have to be.”

Lacking a response to that venomous comment, Sanae looked past Kanako to see Suwako sitting next to her… Who had gotten her hands on a whole roasted deer head. Oh, have mercy…

And she was already reaching over Kanako’s meal, presenting Sanae a handful of glistening, stringy meat. “It’s the cheek! Best part of the best part of the best animal.”

“I’m very grateful, Lady Suwako.” Sanae searched around for a bowl, which Yuiman gracefully and silently (on account of having a mouth full of meat) provided – even if it still had a slight film of deer juice. Sanae held it under Suwako’s outstretched hand, and the god dumped the meat into the bowl. She picked up a pair of chopsticks from the table and ate a mouthful – she wasn’t surprised, but it was actually quite delicious. “By the way, Lady Suwako, where are the Mishaguji?”

“You know, here and there. They’ll come when they’re called.” All eyes followed the smaller god as she leaned back into her seat. “You know, I lied there.” Giggling madly the god picked up a knife and popped the cap of the deer’s skull off to reveal its steaming, gray, wrinkly brain. Her dripping tongue extended instinctively toward it.“Thith ith the betht part.” She took the deer by the horns and gorged on its gray matter like a preta.

Everyone but the god Iwanaga regarded this sight without much interest. Sanae turned to Kanako, whose mood had lightened. She almost hesitated, not wanting to bring up the topic again, but something about it stuck with her. “An existence like that must be awful, though. Having your faith hinge on people believing that you’re the cause of some natural process… it’s like being a yokai.”

The god laughed in response. “That’s why we’re moving from worldly things to more abstract concepts.” She grinned toward Iwanaga and Asama, “I’ve been quite successful in rebranding myself as a god of technology! I was quite comfortable being a god of wind and rain, but those damn weather reporters-”

“But what about when humans rationalize those concepts, too?”

A pause. And then the god turned to her miko, “But how would they? Inspiration for technological innovation often comes arbitrarily. Apprentices and students undergoing rigorous training should naturally seek comfort and assistance in understanding difficult and novel concepts while under the pressure of time and grading. Even machines already built must be maintained; should their maintainers not pray for protection, seeing as their work is demanding and dangerous? Should they not pray also for a higher power to preserve the machine itself, to keep it fit for function? I could go on.”

“I’ve just been anxious,” Sanae retorted, though nothing in Kanako’s tone invited any more dialogue. “I’ve been speaking to Sumireko. She says in the outside world, humans have these ‘AIs’, and they put trust in them as oracles and experts, have relationships with them, and even offload their thinking to them. It was apparently even manifesting phenomena here in Gensokyo, I…” She sighed, “I just think, isn’t that similar to what you’re doing?”

“Sumireko Usami?” Kanako’s mirth bordered on mocking, as if her wide-eyed incredulity wasn’t enough to convey how she felt. “She says that about ‘AI’, does she?” laughter burbled under her every word, “Then that girl’s a fool.”

Suwako announced her intent to speak with a great, wet, slapping ruckus as she cleaned herself with her tongue, as well as a series of deep trilling grunts as she swallowed. She leaned forward, the mix of grease and saliva on her face catching the firelight like a wavering and patchy ginger stubble. “We’re working on our own machine-learning projects, though they’re not at the scale of the outside world. There’s nothing occult about them except what people project onto them, and they certainly aren’t self-sustaining. Those phenomena you mentioned were probably caused by her and others projecting power onto them – you know, like how urban legends manifest?”

“It’s a combination of ignorance and good marketing, put simply.” Kanako concurred, “And nothing like the sector we’re trying to break into.”

Sanae still felt unsettled, somehow. “Well, it doesn’t sound nearly as big a deal as Sumireko made it out to be.” She remembered the bowl in her hands and took a mouthful of cheek. As she chewed she caught Iwanaga’s eye and realized that she had been quiet the entire time. “Might I ask, Lady Iwanaga, what you think?”

The god hummed, pouring sake into a cup for her. Sanae had to suppress a groan – she didn’t know, and it was only courteous, and so on and so on… She thanked Iwanaga for the drink and took a small, careful sip. “It sounds like you’re all managing to keep ahead of the curve.” The god took a sip herself. “It’s difficult and risky to keep up with change. Most people would rather stay comfortable by taking it as it comes or just ignoring it.” She glanced over at Asama, who had also got her hands on a deer head and was taking pointers on how to eat it from Suwako. “But then-”

A great flash of light interrupted Iwanaga, before some screaming thing came hurtling out of the mist and into the table they were sitting at.

They turned to the wreckage, which had been dragged a few meters by the crash. A mound of twitching, bloodied and food-soiled fur was nestled in the white tablecloth like an underdeveloped hatchling cracked from its shell. After a moment it screamed again, a hoarse, vulpine scream, before raising back up into the air and emitting a flash that would have burned normal men. It seemed to be a white fox.

“TANUKIII!” It howled, “DAMNED PRETENDER TO DIVINITY! I’LL REDUCE YOU TO ASH!” It rocketed through the air, back into the great unseen brawl above.

“Well!” Kanako spread her arms wide, the image of good humor. “It seems like our table’s been cleared before we could finish!” She stood up and brushed herself off. She turned to the sky, an epileptic series of reds and blues illuminating a flash of anger. “It’s getting rowdy here, in any case.”

---

“So that’s where you were.”

Enthralled by the dance performance, it took a moment for Sanae to react. She turned to see Reimu, who was glancing in her direction. As quick as that she flicked her gaze to Iwanaga and Asama.

“I know you’re gods and all, but it’s really a pain when you just wander off without any notice.” She rolled her shoulders back lazily, the slowness of it causing Sanae a sort of discomforting dissonance after being so focused on the dancers’ fast performance. Reimu turned to regard Sanae and her gods as if she had just noticed them. She pointed a finger at Kanako, “Has this one been giving you any ‘sales pitches’? Because last time she did that, well…” She shrugged. “It’d be difficult to capture the scope of what that caused in so few words.”

Kanako huffed, “Yes, running water, electricity -”

“Not that I can afford, and I was the one who had to deal with all that bullshit. Careful with this one,” She said to Iwanaga, jabbing a thumb at Kanako. “she’s got a snake’s tongue.”

The mountain god loomed over Reimu. “What are you even doing here? You’re not a god.”

“I was invited as a representative of the Hakurei god-”

“Reimu...” Sanae pleaded.

She sighed and walked to Sanae’s side. She regarded the performance with languid eyes. “I think I recognize some of those dancers…”

After some time to collect herself, Sanae thought she might have figured out the subconscious question that was playing on her mind. “Reimu, what do you think the future of Gensokyo will be?”

That raised an eyebrow. After a moment what Sanae was holding caught her eye. “Gimme some of that mochi.”

Sanae offered the mochi, of which Reimu took a good handful of. “Why are they orange?” She inspected them closer, “And why do they have scary faces?” Before Sanae could explain Reimu exclaimed “Ah, whatever,” and popped one into her mouth.

They watched the performance in silence. It seemed to be a re-enactment of the drawing of Amaterasu from the Heavenly Rock Cave by Ame-No-Uzume. A brown haired girl in a short kimono danced furiously, the sweat of her bare legs reflecting firelight, never staying still for a moment but managing to control each lissome movement to effortless yet exact arcs, steps, turns, leaps – Sanae turned away. The dance was hypnotic – likely literally – and she wanted to get some answers from Reimu.

She elbowed Reimu. “So?”

The other shrine maiden gave Sanae a sideways glance and swallowed. “Well, first of all, I just keep order.” She turned to the sky, letting out a sigh that solidified and joined the surrounding pall. “I guess what your god was saying earlier is what you, when she was listing off all the technology she’s brought from outside like she gives it away as charity…” She shrugged and pretended to close her eyes, but a precisely timed red flare revealed a peeping dark iris. “Gensokyo seems to be developing, as a whole.”

Sanae rubbed her temple. “How, exactly, is it going to develop?”

Her face pinched into a confused expression, before she shook it off. “Dunno. The people who have the answers to your question are probably people like… Kasen, yeah.” Reimu snickered, “She’d have your answer, but she’d probably go on and on, so, uh, ‘clear your schedule’ beforehand, yeah?” When Sanae didn’t respond, Reimu added, “Doesn’t she live near you?”

Sanae nodded. “Yeah. I’ll go see her, I suppose.” Was it strange to say she was disappointed? Maybe it was stupid to expect answers to such a question at a party. She chuckled, if only to clear the air.

“It’s your own time to waste, I guess.” She ate another mochi pumpkin.

“By the way, where’s Shion? I thought she’d be with you.”

“Well, she was, but I was having so much trouble finding those two again,” She pointed a thumb at the other two gods, “that I had to leave her behind. She didn’t take much offense… I think she’s went apple bobbing.”

“That sounds like the absolute worst thing a god of misfortune could do here.”

“What about trying to pickpocket people?” She put a hand on Sanae’s shoulder and pointed to somewhere off in the crowd…

She squinted, trying to spot what Reimu was pointing at… Did she mean that blue binbougami, or her orange sister?…

“I can’t see anything.” Suddenly panicked, she began checking through her own pockets. Everything seemed to be in place-

“What are you doing?” Reimu asked, the corners of her eyes betraying a smile.

“I thought you said Shion – or, or her sister, were out pickpocketing people.”

Reimu tried to disguise a guffaw as a scoff. “Really! Can’t you trust that they’ve changed their ways?” She sucked at her teeth. “And besides, it’s not like the crowd here’s as easy a gig as ordinary humans. It’s like comparing threshing rice to stealing some big, angry beast’s babies. Anyway, I was pointing at some lady with her tits out, I can’t believe you didn’t see them they were huge-”

“Reimu!” Sanae threw her fists down, exasperated.

“Alright, alright!…”

“Sanae,” She turned to see Suwako smiling gently up at her. “She wasn’t lying, they were huge.”

Reimu feigned shock, “You can’t say that! Your wife’s right next to you!” and pointed at Kanako.

Kanako acknowledged the jibe with an incensed side-eye before turning back to the pyramid gods.

“Oh, she knows I’m just scouting talent. And besides,” Suwako’s tongue shot out past Sanae and snatched a mochi pumpkin out of Reimu’s hand. She held it victoriously above her head with her tongue, “wiff feachuhs lyg dis,” before retracting it and pushing it into a cheek. “Who’d ever leave me?”

Her eye twitched, and she turned and slid into a wider, fighting stance.

“Reimu! Its not a big deal” Sanae handed her another mochi sweet. “They’re free!”

Her nose wrinkled, but she took it and ate it. “Fascinating. One’s got a snake’s tongue and the other’s got a frog’s tongue.” She pocketed her remaining sweets and wiped her hand on her skirt.

Sanae took in a deep breath of the wet air. It was tingly, smelled like green pine, and did not cloy. Suwako’s attention had been taken by Kanako, still conversing with the other kami. Reimu ate another mochi whole.

Sanae let her head fall back. The mist above rippled and eddied, disturbed by the gods’ petty fighting. “You know, those invitations were funny.” She spoke up to the mist. “They made me think this was gonna be some serious rite, but it’s really no different to Halloween.”

“Wouldn’t know.” Reimu said.

“Mine said ‘we will not be serving human flesh’… can you believe that?”

“That’s vampires for you.”

“Did they put something like that on yours?”

“No.”

Sanae smiled. The back of her head felt like it was floating. “That’s funny.” She closed her eyes, letting them rest. “They probably didn’t want to make you mad by bringing it up… Did it cross your mind when you got the letter?”

“No.” Reimu’s tone sharpened. “Every time I’ve come over they’ve never had anything like that.”

“At least, they haven’t been conspicuous about it. How would you know that mochi wasn’t made with ground human bones?”

“You’d have to be half a yokai to come up with something like that.”

“Oh come on, its completely natural for me to think that way. If things in my life had been a little different, I could have been one of those unlucky outsiders spirited away to some yokai’s belly…” She giggled.

She felt Suwako tug at her left arm, “Oh, Sanae, there’s no-”

“Whatever” Reimu snarled, taking Sanae out of her trance. “If you’re determined to talk about weird shit, go ahead, but I’m not interested. Hey!” She shouted past Sanae. “You two! You wanna go get something to eat?”

The two gods shared a look, before taking the opportunity to excuse themselves. Sanae gulped, and had to refrain from hanging her head in shame as the Iwanaga and Asama passed her and left with Reimu.

When they were out of earshot, Sanae turned to Kanako; her gaze went from the departing group to the girl as she did so. “What happened?”

“I-” She’d went and said something weird and offputting again. Sanae glanced over her shoulder to see the shrinking backs of the others, as they went to the offerings area. The flashes, the din, and the humiliated defeated coming from that direction indicated it would be chaos. “I was joking about my invitation saying there wouldn’t be human meat…”

Kanako replied with a sigh of her own, still holding the shrine maiden with an expression that might have expressed disappointment. Then she shrugged. “Damned yokai shrine maiden.” She said without inflection. Sanae wracked her brain trying to decipher the god’s feelings. “Well, what can you do.” She looked to the sky, freeing Sanae of scrutiny. “Lets go. I hear the mansion proper is open.”

They’d walked in silence for some time. The fighting had quelled as they had gotten closer to the mansion. Suppose even gods might fear a devil’s wrath. Its great doors were open.

Kanako suddenly livened up. “Suwako, go up and say ‘trick or treat’!”

“No.” Suwako growled.

“Oh, come on! You’ve done it before, haven’t you?” She plucked Suwako’s hat clean off her head. “Use your hat as a candy bucket. You’ll have every right to curse them if they don’t give you candy, you know~”

Kanako handed the hat back upside down. Suwako took it back and held it like she was asked, staring into the bowl of it, suddenly pensive. “I remember Halloween back in the outside world. It was one of the few nights I’d actually go out. It’s strange. I’ve disguised myself as a child before to test people, but, at that time people believed in curses and gods. When I went out on Halloween, well…” She put her hat back on. “If I shot sparks out of my hands and cursed them for not giving me candy, they’d just think I was some delinquent kid with fireworks.”

“Did you ever do that, Lady Suwako?” Sanae asked.

“Never had to.” She chuckled. “But sometimes they’d give me crappy candy and I was really tempted to.”

There was someone waiting at the door – A certain maid, in fact. Sakuya Izayoi stood, her head bowed and her hands clasped in a reverent and waiting display. She had been so still it had been difficult to spot her.

“Hey-”

A pair of figures in dun robes abruptly blocked their path.

“Rejoice! Rejoice!”

“Ye gods have been chosen, chosen!”

The two drew back their hoods, slowly revealing fetid grins.

“As the harvest for hell’s fire tonight!”

The hoods had been fully pulled back to reveal they had jack-o-lanterns for heads.

Seconds dragged on silently.

“Well, that totally bombed.” The one on the right said.

“Run along now, little fairies.” Kanako boomed. “And don’t try that on anyone else here! You were lucky to test the patience of gods so magnanimous as us.”

“Aww, but I wanted to catch up.” The left one’s voice was… No…

The left one pulled their cloak down to reveal light skin, red hair worn loose, red oval eyes, a straight bridged nose, and a smirk. Hecatia’s august features would have been the envy of anyone who wished to project authority, yet Sanae had never seen her sneer, let alone level those eyes neutrally at anyone. Perhaps just the threat of what lay behind that smile was enough. Her chained Earth and Moon soon came to her shoulders – the Otherworld must have been the light of her jack-o-lantern.

The other one pulled down their robe to reveal similarly light skin, tousled blonde hair, energetic crimson eyes, and an offputting, wide smile – Clownpiece. Like other fairies, she appeared quite young, yet was much more waifish than the native fae.

“Sanae!” she threw her arms out, like an auntie offering a hug that would put everything right. “If you forgive me for threatening to damn you and your gods to eternal hellfire, I’ll forgive you for calling me a freaky t-shirt weirdo~!”

“Those seem like unfair terms of surrender…” Sanae said.

“Surrender!”The fairy barked, “Only weaklings surrender! Admitting you’re weak is the worst thing you coulda done! Now we can extort even more stuff outta ya!”

Sanae- Wait, was Clownpiece as big as Hecatia before? “Well, Clownpiece, haven’t you grown!”

“Oh, I’ve grown alright…” The nymph leaned down daintily, pinched the dress of her robe, and jerked it up to flash her unicycle. “You like it?”

Somewhat taken aback, Sanae turned to Kanako. The god winked; her discrete way of telling Sanae to politick. This must be my punishment.

Sanae turned back to see Hecatia suddenly standing before her. “I see you were headed to the mansion? Doing some trick-or-treating- ah, no, sorry. This is Samhain! It’s a totally different thing, they’d call it… whatever ‘trick-or-treat’ is in Gaelic, probably.”

Sanae scratched the back of her head. “Yeah, it all just seems like a repainted Halloween.”

“Reclaimed, woman, re~claimed.”

“Of course!” Sanae laughed, a little too falsely, “We were headed inside, Lady Lapislazuli.” She turned smoothly to Kanako. “Would it be alright if she joined us, Lady Kanako?”

The god took her cue. Taking a step toward Hecatia, she let her arms fall to her sides, tilted her head back, and grinned like some anime yakuza… Oh no… “Yeah. Maybe you could enlighten me a bit about Hell. All of these incidents involving it recently have got me curious.”

“Oh, my.” Hecatia took in the sight. “Well, I’m afraid that I don’t have much to offer except gossip. All of those incidents involved the Animal Realm, you see. Not my usual stomping grounds.”

“You seriously don’t have any stake there?” Sanae put on a quizzical expression. “I thought you’d have connections with some dog gangs down there, given, y’know… That they’re supposed to be one of your sacred animals?”

“Astute girl!” Sanae thought she’d spoken out of turn, but the goddess didn’t seem fazed at all. “You know your history well. I’ll tell you, they’re where I get my gossip from. Their gang’s not very powerful – in fact, they bleed a lot of their most powerful members as turncoats to the Keiga Family.” The goddess’s attention seemed to be taken by something behind Sanae – she could only hear some very strong words being thrown about. “Ladies, I think we should head inside.”

Kanako nodded and started leading the way to the mansion again. She’s still keeping up that yakuza act, but at least she isn’t saying anything… Hecatia dismissed Clownpiece, who rolled over to pester Suwako.

“Lady Lapislazuli-”

The goddess interrupted her with a wave. “Oh, no need for formalities, Sanae, just call me whatever.”

“Hecatia,” Sanae continued, “how was the world made?”

The goddess gasped, but her smile stayed. “To be bringing up such a contentious topic… are you trying to start a fight?”

“What! No, of course not, Luh-Lady…”

“Master-!” They both turned to see Suwako dragging Clownpiece to them by her ear.

“Your attendant keeps trying to steal my hat and replace it with her own!” She tugged at the fairy’s ear, rather a bit too violently. Miraculously the fairy kept her balance.

“Clownpiece, leave her hat alone.” Hecatia said halfheartedly. “Anyway. Sanae, don’t you think it’d be better to ask your own god that question?”

Suwako let the fairy go. “What question?”

They all watched Sanae. Her focus was so taken she stumbled over jutting cobble. Regaining her balance, she repeated the question to her god.

She didn’t immediately respond. Hollow eyes in a still face watched the girl, capturing every nervous movement.

“Sanae.” Suwako called. Her gaze flicked to Kanako as she approached. In barely a whisper the god said “You’ve been morose all night.” The movement of her lips didn’t match her words. “You’ve got some heavy questions weighing on you, haven’t you? ”

“Yes.”

“That’s fine” She clasped Sanae’s hand with her own. “That’s good.” Her eyes softened to further her point. “I suppose you want to go off with that Hecatia?” She let out a weak, breathy chuckle. “Neither me or Kanako are the best people to answer your questions.”

Sanae kept silent.

“Don’t worry, everyone else thinks I’m scolding your manners. But make your mind up quick, we’re almost at the door.”

Sane nodded. “Thank you, Lady Suwako.”

Hecatia was already facing her when she turned. “Sheesh. Your gods are harsh, huh?” She closed one eye, in a cheeky, girlish manner. Her smile grew. Her eye flicked to the door then back.

---

Sakuya opened the windowless balcony door to reveal Remilia Scarlet standing behind it, smiling. She curtsied deeply to them, her head bowed, her bat wings tucked in. Her dress was a pink so light It seemed to be colorless except by contrast with her skin, pale as bleached bones. When she rose the tips of her fangs caught the light of the waxing gibbous and bare stars. “Lady Hecate. Lady Kochiya. I’m delighted to speak with you.”

“The same, Lady Scarlet.” Sanae bowed.

“Glad you could make time, Remilia.” Hecatia had dumped her robes and jack-o’-lantern on Clownpiece, revealing that she was wearing a toga patterned with repeating patterns of greek letters in red, blue and yellow. (“Quite kitschy, isn’t it Sanae? Remilia insisted on it. Ah, but I bet you can already guess what these letters spell out~”).

“Please, just Remilia will do. And Lady Hecate, it would have been ungracious to do otherwise!” The vampire didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands – she was clearly quite excited. Finally she gestured to a European-style tea table at the edge of the balcony. “Please, take a seat.”

The vampire pulled out the seats for them eagerly. With her so close, Sanae could see that she had an almost invisible febrile tremor in her eyes and hands.

Now sat down, Remilia surveyed her two guests. The pre-arranged drinks appeared – Sanae had asked for water, Hecatia for milk, and Remilia had a cup of some black tea. She drummed her fingers twice on the table, before leaning toward Sanae. “I heard you had some questions.”

“Yes.” Sanae took a drink of her water. She swirled it round the glass meditatively. “I’m worried about the future. Whether the cost of what we’re doing now will be worth it in the future.”

“Hmmm. By cost you mean human cost, right?”

Sanae gulped. It was a bold question to ask, especially to a man-eater like her.

But Remilia’s excitement stayed. She was sure that the devil would have been flung into a rage. Maybe she had wanted that. Forget her problems and fight a meaningless, beautiful fight. “Well, first I have to ask you. Do you think the villagers here are part of that ‘cost’?”

Sanae put a hand to the snake charm in her hair. “I don’t know.” Sanae turned to Hecatia. “No matter how much their condition improves, they can never leave, can they?”

The vampire nodded after a delay. “No, they can’t”

“And any outsiders are free game for anyone to kill or… do whatever they want with.”

“That too.” Silence. Remilia stirred her tea, the spoon clinking against the porcelain. Then she poured it over the balcony. “A libation. For everyone I’ve killed.” She dropped the cup too, then sat back in her chair and ran a hand through her hair. “But I’ll defend myself by saying that I’ve never killed for sport. Not that words could prove that. But I do prey on outsiders. Well, Sakuya does, at my command.”

“I wasn’t accusing you-”

“This is relevant to your question. I do kill for power, and for what I believe in.” She paused, gauging Sanae’s reaction. “That is universal.” She turned to the moon, “because if one doesn’t, they’re vulnerable – and they’ll be killed themselves, eventually. What, then, happens to those under their charge, and their treasures, knowledge, and way of life?”

“So you’d fight for Gensokyo.” Sanae said blithely. “What enemy could possibly warrant such ‘power’? And in the end, will this ‘power’ you have even be enough to protect you and Gensokyo?”

“I suppose I’ll know when the time comes. And, you’ve seen the Lunarians, right? All across the Earth there are hundreds of thousands of adversaries, whose power can barely even compare to those moon dwellers, who do the exact same as we do, and would devour Gensokyo in an instant given the opportunity.”

“I suppose that means that we’re just fighting for survival, then.”

“Yes. For the survival of ourselves and everyone we love.”

Sanae sighed, and leaned back in her chair. A breeze blanched her skin. I suppose I’ve gotten my answer.