I am Kogasa Tatara. I am a karakasa. I have a serious issue.

I stand before the Myouren Temple today. There's this person I like, you see. but I don't know who to turn to for advice. Who should I ask?

[ ] The pretty Head Nun(Priest? Priestess?) Is always so helpful with these things, but can she really help with romantic advice?

[ ] That plain girl is nice, and she might be able to help. But that big, scary pink guy is supposed to be really nice, too. I might learn how to be scary AND get romantic advice if that's true!

[ ] The sailor girl is usually really fun to talk to! The thing is, I have no idea what her romantic advice would be like. It might be bad, but it also might be REALLY good, though.

[ ] Kyouko is a rock star, so she's surely had to deal with romance at some point. The 'sex, drugs and rock' lifestyle she leads might actually help here!'

[ ] There's supposed to be another girl here. She's kind of mysterious, though. I hear she's actually a mother, though, so she might be of help here, since she apparently knows enough to have a kid.

[ ] The big-sis tanuki is always giving me advice! And alcohol! A great combination! Maybe I can learn something from her AND get the confidence I need!

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Not another story. But not exactly a one-shot.

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“Oh, Myouren? What are you practicing now?”

Byakuren peeks over her brother’s shoulder, hunched over his own hands.

“Byakuren? I’m practicing some new magic for the upcoming journey. Some of the monks have been wondering what to do if some of the men in the village get lost.”

Stretching his prayer beads over his two forefingers for Byakuren to see, he wraps the beads over his ring finger and pinky. Then, he lets go of the beads with his other hand. The beads seem to jump from the first two fingers to the others.

Byakuren laughs. “That’s just a silly trick, isn’t it?”

Her brother does, too. “That might be. But this isn’t.”

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It's been three months at least, I've been pestered with ever dwindling hope and enthusiasm, and I myself doubted I would continue this. And yet, here in /shrine/ I find myself posting a long-overdue update! Now try not to cuss me out for being slow too much.

---

I find myself waking up in the arms of a beautiful, naked woman after a night that felt more like a dream than anything else. In my case I'm being dead serious. The pleasure I felt and the fact that I was going at it with Letty really did feel like it was little more than a pleasant dream, especially since my sleep schedule is only now starting to shift to something more along the lines of what a normal person might have. ...Then again, the exertion last night might account for why I'm feeling sleepy and unproductive. I try to get out of bed to get myself cleaned up, but find that there are two problems with this: One, I apparently managed to join together with her in my sleep, and two, she's got a tight hold of me. I can't argue with the sensations and find myself wanting to sleep a little longer in her arms, but at the same time I can't just let myself be bound up in a pot of honey all day, no matter how nice it feels.

I shift my weight to at least roll myself toward the edge of the bed, but all that does is put her on top of me. Her soft body is pressing down on mine even harder than before, what with gravity assisting her own unconscious physical force, which is complicated yet further by the fact that she's running her tongue along my cheek. She nuzzles my neck a little bit after that and sighs in contentment. All that combined with her radiant warmth makes me wonder how in the world I'm supposed to get up from this.

...Though when I try to think about it, I can't recall anything pressing planned for today. I think I can let myself be swayed just this once...

...

Alight on the front porch, knock once, twice, three times~ "Ivan!" I call out to that leadhead once I do, and find that after a few minutes there's no sound of footsteps coming up to the door. I put my ear to the door just to make absolutely sure

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"Hey, Sekibanki!" I call, spotting a familiar face in the crowded market street.

"Oh, uh... Kogasa, wasn't it? It's been a while," the floating redhead replies. I fall into step beside her, my umbrella shading us both from the hot afternoon sun.

"What happened to the rest of you?" I ask. She sighs.

"To make a long story short, I got in over my head," she says. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "Dr. Yagokoro told me to take it easy."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

"In Eientei. For a month."

"Wait, seriously!? What did you do to yourself!?"

"...I'd rather not talk about it," she says with a grimace.

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Day in, day out, it's always the same thing.

At the crack of dawn you're already up and en route to the village. It doesn't take long to get there when you can fly, though you try to stay low to the ground as you draw closer so as to not attract attention. Before entering the village you hide any obvious signs you don't belong and amble towards the store.

The man in charge is a geezer, as far as you're concerned. He always insists that he has a lot of life left in him, but you know better. People all die eventually, though you hope he hangs around for a while yet. After all, if he dies then you'll need to find a new job!

Anyway, after running into the old man and getting your morning greeting you get straight to work. It's not easy work, though the only hard part is settling for something so boring. These days you have the whole thing down to a routine, where you sweep after every ten or so customers that come through.

Occasionally the old man breaks his routine by having you sweep after a particularly messy guest, or by interrupting the constant breaks you allow yourself by having you help a customer get something off a shelf. Sometimes he even has you load what they bought into a cart for them, or sends you to help them carry it to their house!

None of that matters, though. The only thing that matters is when she comes through.

Every other day she stops in, usually carrying meat and vegetables she already bought elsewhere. Most of the time she'll just look at the old man's wares while talking to him, only occasionally buying something. Those are the best days, since you get to volunteer to help her carry whatever she bought.

Today is one of those days.

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“Hey~”

I continue to sweep the path. The newcomer’s voice is a routine and, as usual, she’ll swoop in and start talking whether or not I acknowledge her greeting.

“Hey!!”

She crashes right next to me. Leaves, branches, and other oddities in my neat pile are spread all over the path. My work is gone, but I don’t even blink. I’m used to it.

“Hi, Marisa,” I mutter, beginning my sweeping anew.

“Reimu, have ya heard about the ghost girl?”

I shrug noncommittally. Her greeting is abrupt, and follows a train of thought that I am not privy to; however, I have no need to ask questions, because she’ll just tell me everything.

“A little girl ‘as been showin’ up at night, terrorizin’ villagers.”

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Let's see pants, shirts and other clothes are all accounted for so are your books, games and the rest of your stuff, nodding to yourself you close your brief case, a green one with brown straps that would look more at home in the previous century, and your sky blue duffel bag.

You quickly give yourself a once over making sure your hazel nut hair aren't chaos incarnate or that you need to shave. satisfied you sling your bag unto your shoulder with some difficulty and grab the brief case before leaving the room after making sure everything was locked.

As you walk through the corridor you can't help but be exited at the prospect of returning to japan, the last time you were there was a blast! You met colorful people (sometime literally) both at and outside of work and unlike last time you were going there only for fun!... Yeah right the Japanese division is definitely going to bug you when you arrive in Tokyo at least until you start your road trip with Subaru and Sukoshiro after that you will be free to do what you want, might even go see that “indestructible” torii in Nagasaki if your travel take you there.

As you open the door you are greeted by...
“bamboo? What?”
That can't be normal, as you try to figure out just what this is about you hear a sound from behind you, spinning around as fast as you can you immediately notice the absence of the door that brought you here.
You declare your state of mind to the world with an eloquent “well fuck.”

Looking around to see just where you are you can only see bamboo, the stuff is everywhere stalks preventing you from seeing farther than a handful of meters and that's being generous, leaves littering the ground and shoots poking out of said ground here and there. But as you look around you can't help but hear as well the forest is fairly quiet the only sound being the rustling of the bamboo and the leaves as well as the wind, wait scratch that you can't hear the wind.

...Hold on if there's no wind how can the bamboo and leaves rustle? You then suddenly feel a breath behind you, prompting you to turn sloooooooowly.

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You dream.

In your weapon cum chariot cum coffin, you float between the stars and you dream, content and alone. Your story ended at a time and place of your choosing. You made the best decisions you could have based on the information you had at the time and your own judgement. You followed your heart and you regret nothing.

Unfortunately, your dreams are a completely different matter. Replaying pivotal moments over and over, abstractly shoving your life in your face, you are all but bathing in your own legacy, ever questioning your choices. If you had sought greater power, would you have found it? With it, would you have done things differently? Were the sacrifices needed to get that power greater or lesser than what was lost when you turned your back on it all? At the time, you decided they were greater.

Sometimes the dreams are less intense. Flashbacks from the very beginning, when you were barely more than a girl, when you first touched on power at all. The choice you had to make that day, in a different dream altogether. The sword, power to stand against anything. The staff, indirect and non-obvious might. The shield, for those who have the will to protect and endure.

Sometimes they are simply fond memories, like the moment you discovered your own magical nature. Of the fourteen known elements, you touched yours in a burst of inspiration shortly after unlocking your inner potential. It is a part of you; in a way it always was even before you knew magic was real. It is said that those of similar dispositions are destined to cross paths one day, for good or ill.

Time has been meaningless to your dreaming self. You do not notice when the impact occurs, and you do not feel the spinning as you veer out of control. You crash into a barrier, then plunge through, tearing a hole behind you. A second barrier allows you through without resistance; a forgotten and unneeded figure such as yourself is welcomed in a place such as this with (figurative) open arms.


[***]

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"If you see the Buddha on the side of the road, spook him."

My clever turn of phrase nearly cost me a great opportunity. I bit my lip to avoid giggling and giving away my position. The Myouren Temple's appearance in the Human Village had been like someone giving me my very own chicken farm. Lots of travellers and young'uns, and rooms full of people sitting silently with their eyes closed. It's every karakasa's dream.

In fact, this wasn't the first time my target -- a youkai modelled after some exotic beast called a 'tiger' -- would be getting a dose of the Kogasa treatment. Just last week she was sitting in this very same spot, cross-legged, breathing slowly. I crept up close, evading every dry leaf and twig in my way, before leaning in and giving her my best "booga-booga-bleh!"

The claw marks healed pretty quickly, but the satisfaction lasted for days.

To my delight, as I peeked over the shrubbery around the temple yard I saw that the tiger lady wasn't alone today. A woman with mouse ears and a tail, obviously not young but still pretty tiny, was sitting almost shoulder-to-shoulder with her.

Facing the two of them with her eyes closed was an older woman with big, curly hair that changed from purple to blonde. Even just sitting, I could tell she was pretty tall, and pretty cut, too. She didn't look like a bodybuilder, but she definitely kept in shape. I got a very mom-like vibe looking at her.

I hovered over the shrubs... careful now... and crept close to the mouse girl... careful...

Suddenly, the mom-looking lady's eyes opened. She looked right at me, as if she'd known I was there the whole time, and smiled at me like I had just shown up early for a party. She pointed at me (how rude) and then pointed to the hallway behind me, hoping for me to leave them in peace.

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It takes a while for me to really finalize everything in my head, but... it's a bit upsetting when you realize your reasons for an action are so terribly banal. Because I have to admit, the day-to-day has been... lethargic, to me. Sure, today has been hectic, but... that's how things usually go. Weeks or months of nothing, and then a few hours of heart-pumping action. I'm not saying it's bad; it's nice to have so much free time in my life.

All the same, having a bit more structure in my schedule wouldn't be too bad, either. Hell, Mima always had something for me to do every day, even when she wasn't around. And I remember Keine always assigning us homework too; repetition's the mother of learning, right?

But all the legitimate justifications and explanations doesn't wash away the fact that I'm adding more classes 'cause I'm bored. ...It's a bad taste.

"Ah, Marisa? Are you there?" Byakuren's gentle voice coaxes me out of my thoughts, making me realize that I'm staring like an idiot at two lovely ladies.

So it's totally natural that I try to save some face. It's instinctive! "Sorry, I was getting lost in your eyes," I shamelessly tell her, gently fluttering my lashes.. And if Akyuu's angrily sobbing into her hands, I absolutely don't notice. Neither does Byakuren, who demurely bows her head and looks away.

"My apologies, Marisa. I just seem to have that effect on people." Her voice is rich and warm, the low tones filled with gentle... accomidation, if not acceptance.

"No, that's all on me. I really should have been paying attention," I tell them both. And Akyuu's silent mutter of 'Yes, yes you should have' is sweet disapproval~

Still, I can't play the fool all the time, least of all with my students. It'd be a disservice to them, if they want to learn. But my head's still in a jumble, and I've always found it easier to write things out first.

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