[x] Reisen is a brilliant little kit, and this was the time for her to shine. Just like with Chen, all I needed to do was give her a little support and encouragement.

I still remember back when Chen made her first spellcard. It had taken a lot of effort on both our parts - for all her good qualities, Chen simply wasn’t a natural with danmaku. Staying still while you cast a spellcard and the other person shot at you went against every instinct my kit had, and while spellcards with movement did exist, they were more difficult for a beginner. Making matters worse, the order for me to treat her as my pet made it difficult for me to teach her to the degree I wanted. (When she grew frustrated and started mewling for kitty cuddles, I almost had to tie my own hands to stop the shikigami from indulging her.)

But nevertheless we persisted, and finally she had her first spellcard ready to show Yukari. And my little girl was nervous. The shikigami possessing me had been anxious that everything be perfect for its master, and while that drive had helped in focusing enough to teach Chen… it had left my kit with stage fright, her voice wavering as she asked if we could maybe practice another week first.

I’d felt an almost primal urge to just embrace her and make the problem go away. To pick up my little girl, hug her, assure her she was the best kitten in all of history, and leave the spellcard demonstration for later. But that would have just delayed the problem and made it that little bit harder for Chen to stand on her own when “later” finally came. She’d done a good job, she’d put in the work, and “Kishin - Soaring Bishamonten” was a fine entry-level spellcard. As much as I wanted to hold her hand, that would be holding her back. She didn’t need my protection… just a little encouragement.

So I knelt down, and pet her. A quick stroke as my fingers traced a line from her fluffy ears down her cheek. She went completely still, looking at me as I told her not to worry. That she was ready, that she’d worked hard, and that Yukari was going to be just as impressed with her as I was. And in my kit’s eyes I saw the worry fade away as Chen fought her fear with pure, earnest determination. Her nerves were still evident, but she approached Yukari, started up her spellcard… and it went absolutely perfectly. (After which it was finally time to cuddle my kit and shower her with praise.)

It’s easy to underestimate how meaningful a simple touch can be. After all, the sense of touch is something we use constantly, whether that’s holding things in our hands or brushing up against objects. But despite that, how often do you touch another person? Oh, there’s bumping into someone in a crowd, or the occasional handshake… but an intentional, gentle, prolonged touch is meaningful in a way that few people realize. It calls back to our memories of our loved ones, and is proof on a level beneath words that there’s another person not just there with you, but there for you. That they chose, in this small way, to get close to you, to comfort you… in short, that they care.

What better message to send to a girl whose efforts remained perpetually unappreciated despite working almost as hard as a shikigami?

And so when Reisen looked back at me, that hesitation in her gaze, I gave her that little bit of encouragement - a hand on her shoulder, and a subtle nod. The unspoken message to go ahead, because she’s got this.

“Marisa’s in bed rest on Eirin’s orders,” the nurse said authoritatively. “She’s expected to make a full recovery, but jumping back into incident resolution could aggravate her injuries.”

“If Marisa’s injuries aren’t bad, shouldn’t Eientei be able to just heal them?” Akyuu asked.

“It’s more about playing it safe,” Reisen replied. “Eientei’s number one priority is the safety of its patients.”

“But Eirin’s entire claim to fame is the medicine she creates.” Akyuu persisted. “Miracle cures for everything from the common cold to stage four cancer, that work efficiently, almost instantly, and without side effects.”

I’d been watching the back-and-forth with no more interference than patting the kit’s shoulder, but Akyuu’s word choice caught my attention. Specifically, it was interesting that she named cancer for her choice of a deadly, difficult-to-treat disease. It was indeed a well known, highly feared disease… in the outside world. There doubtless had been a few actual cancer cases Eirin had treated, but its name recognition within Gensokyo was near zero, as the disease simply wasn’t well known back when the Great Hakurei Barrier was formed. It was the sort of example I’d expect an outsider like Mamizou to come up with, not a historian and Gensokyo native like Akyuu.

“Almost instantly.” Reisen stressed. “And that’s for villagers that are returning to their peaceful daily lives, not jumping right back into getting clobbered by danmaku and aggravating injuries!”

“But if all Marisa’s suffered are a few cuts and bruises, surely there’s little to aggravate?” Akyuu asked innocently. “She and Reimu both have had a few times where they’ve failed to resolve an incident, taken quite the beating in doing so, and run right back out the next day to try again. In fact, weren’t a couple of those beatings literally at Sakuya’s hands?”

Reisen hesitated, and I found myself begrudgingly impressed. The chronicler’s position was both simple and solid; if Marisa was raring to go after a normal defeat but she wasn’t now, that meant her injuries had to be worse than usual. Suppressing a frown, I rubbed the kit’s back as I considered the problem. The very simplicity of the argument made it difficult to disarm - not only was it logic a five year old could understand, it was also completely correct.

“I-it’s not that simple,” the moon rabbit said, stuttering a bit. “It takes time for a human body to truly heal off damage, and if you don’t give it that time to rest, the damage accumulates! And even with my master’s medicine, you can only use so much magic on a human before they just end up becoming a youkai!”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant?” Akyuu asked, with a coy tilt of her head. “My point is that there shouldn’t be much damage - that’s the entire reason spellcards exist to begin with! Gensokyo only works because there’s no major risks to a danmaku duel!”

Hmm. That sounded logical, but any actual spellcard duelist should know better - danmaku attacks were less dangerous than their conventional equivalents, but that did not make them safe. Something proven by the fact that Greg needed a visit to Eientei after being struck by one of Marisa’s bullets. So why leave such an obvious opening? Perhaps it really was Akyuu after all… or was Mamizou trying to throw me off her trail?

I frowned, scratching the kit behind the ears as I considered the possibilities. Trying to impersonate Akyuu was a very dangerous game to play - while the chronicler’s role as a neutral arbiter was a great way to influence the discussion, it could also backfire tremendously. Mamizou’s abilities let her imitate many things, but a photographic memory was not one of them. Was she relying on nobody ever questioning her disguise? Admittedly, with her own existence hidden by Keine it was possible, but it felt unnecessarily risky.

“T-true in theory, but with caveats in practice,” Reisen replied, swallowing and shifting nervously. “Danmaku attacks are far less d-dangerous than an equivalent, non-danmaku blow would be, but that does not make them s-safe. Greg’s own injury proves that!”

But at the same time, what reason did Akyuu have to side with Mamizou? The Child of Miare knew perfectly well that she couldn’t be part of an incident, not in the sense of helping cause one. Influencing the humans of the village was already a major power struggle for Gensokyo’s youkai, and Akyuu’s histories were a key part of that. Few people stopped to read them in full, but the contents still spread by word of mouth, and the people believed in the accuracy of the Child of Miare’s words. This was a tremendous power to wield, but one considered acceptable because she was a neutral party.

What could possibly be worth risking that for? The Child of Miare cooperating with a culprit who was manipulating and erasing history… it threw her entire role into doubt. And while she might be able to get away with it in the eyes of the public, she ultimately reported to the Yama. Shiki Eiki was fond of her (or at least as fond as she let herself get of people), but she wouldn’t ignore this kind of violation. She couldn’t. If this really was Akyuu, she was putting her permission to reincarnate at risk!

“I suppose I can see a doctor being swayed by this argument,” the woman who might be Akyuu said thoughtfully.

She didn’t seem displeased, and there was no way she was just giving up. Reisen seemed to share your discomfort, letting out a shaky exhale. “T-then can we f-finally-”

“But not Marisa.” The words were spoken softly, but with no less power for it. “She’s the magician who makes a point of dueling every dangerous foe available, one of Gensokyo’s foremost incident resolvers, and someone with a habit of breaking into and stealing from the Scarlet Devil Mansion on a regular basis.”

So that was the trap. By switching the focus from Eirin’s treatment to what Marisa would do, Akyuu was circumventing Reisen’s authority as an expert. It was irritatingly clever; while the moon rabbit would clearly have the best idea of her master’s plans and thought process, there were several people present with a better grasp of the magician’s character. Which was known to be particularly headstrong, and brave bordering on reckless. I locked glances with the chronicler, carefully considering the best response as I pet the bunny.

“T-that’s because, Marisaaaah-” Reisen gasped, “s-s-she, she…”

Oh dear. I’d hoped to give this one to the kit, but if the stress was getting to her, I’d need to take over. Whether Akyuu was really Mamizou or not, letting her derail the discussion here was unacceptable. I kept petting Reisen, resolving to make it up to the girl later.

“Her stubbornness and unwillingness to give up are a legend all their own, one more famous than most actual youkai,” my quarry continued. “You’re telling me a few cuts and the abstract risk of aggravating injuries kept her down? Eirin would have to-”

“Ran, would you stop that?!” Reisen burst out. The moon rabbit’s face was almost as red as her eyes as she glared at me.

I blinked, thrown off guard. “What? I was just petting…” and it was my turn for my voice to trail off.

I’d been petting Reisen. In front of everyone.

“Ran, you idiot!” you hissed, pulling your hand back as if you’d touched a hot stove. “Reisen, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

Miko chuckled, folding her arms as the saint watched you. “Having a little Chen withdrawal there, Ran?”

Now was not the time to - wait, no, this was the perfect angle! Redirect the blame to yourself, and spare Reisen the embarrassment you deserved. “It has been a few days, yes.” you admitted, scratching the back of your head sheepishly. “Ever since Remilia received her urban legend and the incident kicked into high gear, I haven’t been able to make time to visit. I… must have missed her more than I thought.”

“I suppose we can add pet cats to the list of weaknesses the fabled nine-tails possesses,” the saint teased, drawing a few laughs.

Thank you you mouthed before looking away, not needing to fake your shame as you sold Miko’s suggestion.

“It is understandable, though.” Kasen defended you. “After a particularly stressful day, there is a certain allure to having something soft and fluffy to hug. ”

“Wait a minute.” Reimu’s voice rang out, stern and harsh… before abruptly turning playful as the shrine maiden smirked. “I thought you said all your pets were for training?”

“That, erm-” the hermit sputtered, attempting to backpedal. “- I didn’t say I acted on such urges, merely that I understood they existed!”

You tuned out the banter, focusing instead on the young lady in front of you. Reisen was still a little red in the face, but less so than previously, the moon rabbit visibly calming down. You opened your mouth… but what was there to even say? You’d given a brief apology, and while a longer one was warranted, in front of everyone else was not the time or place. Considering the nature of your transgression, attempting to give comfort in some other way would be astonishingly tone deaf. No. Better to give the woman space and push the conversation past your affectionate faux pas as quickly as possible.

“Can we get back to the point at hand?” The chronicler’s irritation cut through the playful discussion. “Why isn’t Marisa here? There’s no way a few bruises are enough to keep her down.”

You found yourself oddly grateful at Akyuu’s interruption, but it brought you back to the same problem as before. Marisa simply wouldn’t let minor injuries keep her away from an incident… which in turn implied that her injuries were not minor.

“I can only imagine she saw a chance to pilfer Eientei’s library,” Miko said drily. “Casually dropping by the Scarlet Devil Mansion or Alice’s house is one thing, but the Bamboo Forest of the Lost is far more difficult to navigate.”

Reimu sighed, dragging a hand across her face. “She would, wouldn’t she.”

“Perceptive,” you agreed, giving them both a nod. “I’m certain Eirin will have countermeasures against petty theft, but the consequences of any attempted burglary are neither here nor there.”

“This isn’t like skipping some tea party!” Akyuu objected, scowling. “The incident is ongoing, and if Sakuya kidnapped Sumireko, that’s critically important news! You can’t tell me Marisa would miss this meeting for a little ‘petty theft’!”

“True enough, and there is another factor,” you said easily. “She doesn’t know about it.”

“What? But you said she was working with you, and-”

“I didn’t know about it either. Not at the time, at least.” You gave a shrug. “I only found out this meeting was taking place from Seiga while trying to find Miko. If I’d had earlier notice, I assure you I would have arrived on time.”

“I can confirm that,” Alice said, glancing back at you. “Ran’s reaction upon figuring out a way to both find the taoist and participate in the meeting was… unlikely to have been faked.”

Reisen’s ears drooped a little more and you bit back a sigh. You’d need to figure out a way to make things up to the girl - no, to the young woman - that didn’t involve embarrassing her further. “But getting back to Marisa’s motives for staying at Eientei, the answer is simple. It’s late at night, she took a bit of a beating, and Eirin is offering her a bed for the night. She needs to rest before taking on the Scarlet Devil Mansion in any case, and this way she gets a chance to relax and assorted looting opportunities instead of a long flight back home. Why wouldn’t she take advantage of it?”

Kasen nodded. “That checks out. Given an invitation, Marisa is more than willing to explore someone else’s home… and sometimes in the absence of one.”

“Tell me about it,” Reimu groaned. “She crashes at my shrine to mooch a meal all the time.”

Alice raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t she bring you food just as often?”

“But I was clearly on to something!” Akyuu protested, cutting off the banter. “Reisen’s reactions-”

“You mean the part where Ran’s ‘loving care’ was openly derailing her train of thought?” Miko asked. “It’s a miracle the moon rabbit kept her composure as well as she did.”

Miko’s description of your slip was aggravating, but it was nevertheless helpful. You shook your head, frowning. “The only secret Reisen was trying to keep was the fact I was petting her.” You then sighed and turned to the girl in question. “I am sorry about that, by the way.”

“It’s alright,” she said quietly, not looking at you.

“It’s not just that!” The chronicler insisted, openly frustrated. “They’re hiding something!”

“And what makes you so certain?” you asked, folding your arms. “Or to put it more plainly, what grounds do you have to call me a liar?”

You had to suppress a grin, steeling your features into something stern bordering on judgemental, the expression of a youkai who was unamused at a mere human trespassing on their domain. Despite that, your fingers dug into your arms with the energy of a predator on the hunt, because Akyuu had slipped. She’d gone too far, going beyond devil’s advocate into outright contradicting you. It was an understandable mistake - you were lying, and the woman in front of you knew that perfectly well… but she couldn’t prove it without implicating herself. The Child of Miare had no innocent explanation for knowing that Marisa was critically injured.

And so you pressed on, before she had a chance to come up with one. “The witch clearly isn’t here, so it’s not as though I’m lying about that. The reasons we’ve given for her absence - a doctor being cautious and a burglar plying her trade - have satisfied everyone else here, a number of active incident resolvers, along with Marisa’s best friend. Do you, by chance, know something the rest of us aren’t privy to?”

Every eye turned her way, and Akyuu flinched, looking down as she folded her hands around her cup. “No. Just… writer’s intuition.”

“Are you certain?” Miko asked. “I sense there’s something you strongly desire to say.”

Akyuu hesitated for a moment, her shoulders tense, and you pounced. “She is rather worked up… but I suppose I can understand where she’s coming from. Akyuu… you’re worried about Keine, aren’t you?”

Whether she was truly Mamizou or not, Akyuu had already proven she could navigate a conversation, and so you couldn’t rely on her self-destructing. The point you were pressing on wasn’t solid enough to truly nail her with - she could simply make the excuse that she’d gotten caught up in her own theory and a little too excited, and given a moment to think the chronicler would likely do so. So instead of gambling that the chronicler wouldn’t find an out, you gave her one… but in a way that forced a concession.

It was a thought process not unlike chess. Sometimes an attack was insufficient to win material outright, but your opponent could only defend by worsening their pawn structure or weakening a key square - a minor advantage that could snowball into something far greater over time. If Akyuu took the out you were giving her, then it helped establish Keine’s existence and moved the discussion to the next topic you wanted to discuss. But rejecting the excuse would be noticeably odd and put more pressure on her to explain her earlier actions, particularly since she didn’t already have an explanation readily at hand.

The chronicler bit her lip as her eyes flicked back to you. She clearly saw the play you were making, but just as clearly couldn’t see a way past it. “... yeah.” She finally admitted. “Hopefully nothing’s happened to her.”

“A moment please,” Byakuren interrupted. “Who’s this Keine? I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with her.”

A smirk would be completely inappropriate here - more’s the pity, as that question couldn’t have come at a better time. “This can be best answered with a few questions,” you replied. “To begin with, who is the schoolteacher at the village?”

The buddhist paused for a second, giving a frown, “I can’t recall.”

“Neither can I,” Miko said, looking similarly troubled. Ah… you hadn’t actually told the taoist about Keine yet, had you?

As for the shrine maiden, Reimu merely gave a shrug. “I don’t really pay that much attention to the school.”

“Even though you put up ofuda to drive away a youkai hiding there last year?” you asked. You’d been too busy to investigate yourself, but the mysterious youkai had been the talk of the village for weeks afterward. “No matter. You should find the other questions more enlightening. Who hid the human village during the Eternal Night incident? Who did you fight overtop where the village should have been? And who pointed you in the direction of the culprits?”

Reimu was openly frowning at that. “We found them after fighting Marisa, I’m pretty sure. As for the village… I must have figured the culprits hid it, because the only things there were fairies, I think? It’s been a while, it’s a little vague.”

Alice glanced at you. “My memories are much the same, but I can remember the rest of the incident more clearly. Furthermore, now that I think about it… the number of dolls I had available for use after flying over the missing village was six fewer than it should have been. An indication I had declared a spellcard and yet forgotten it.”

“Indeed,” you gave her a nod. “I believe this carries the point, but there’s one other time you fought her. It was at the trial of guts a month afterwards, where she tried to prevent everyone from reaching Mokou.”

Needless to say, neither Reimu nor Alice remembered that encounter either.

Having laid the groundwork, you again laid an illusion over the table. This one featured the missing person in question, complete with ornate hat. “This is Keine Kamishirasawa. She’s the village’s schoolteacher, a friend to both Fujiwara Mokou and the Hieda family, and one of the forces that helps guard the village.”

“She’s never been pushed to hiding her own existence before,” Akyuu said, biting her lip. “With how important Mokou and the village are to her… the only way I could see it is if she really needed to hide. I think someone’s after her. Keine is… she’s not weak, but she doesn’t compare to the likes of a Reimu or Sakuya.”

It was a good, genuine-sounding plea, and set the hakutaku up to be sympathetic. Was that because Keine genuinely was innocent and coerced into her role, or a purely tactical decision to take heat off a co-conspirator? You couldn’t tell, though it didn’t particularly matter - the key point was establishing her actions.

“And why would someone be after Keine?” Miko asked. "What makes her important to the incident?"

“Because she is also known as the history-eating half beast,” you declared.

You sent a pulse of magic through the illusion, the schoolteacher’s hat vanishing and her horns appearing as you switched the image to her were-hakutaku form. “Keine’s ability is to conceal history itself, which is how she hid the human village during the Endless Night incident. Furthermore, during a full moon, her bestial traits show and she gains the additional power to create history. The applications to urban legends are obvious.”

“You’re saying there’s a youkai who hid her own existence, who can just erase and create urban legends wholesale?” Kasen demanded.

“She can only create history during a full moon,” you said, “but otherwise… I believe so, yes.”

“The full moon begins the night after next.” Reisen said quietly.

Reimu grimaced. “So basically, we’ve got two days to solve this before more urban legends like Remilia’s start popping up.”

“Keine would never do something like that!” Akyuu protested. “You might not remember her, but I do. She’s a protector, a guide, a teacher - for crying out loud, she spends most of her time talking to kids about history! I don’t think she’s ever actually fought except when trying to defend humans, and she gets along just fine with youkai as well. There’s simply no way she’d be involved with creating a malicious urban legend!”

You nodded along with her statement. “I agree, it would be out of character for her… normally. But there’s a second curiosity. You see, earlier this evening, Keine was supposed to be meeting with Sakuya regarding Remilia’s urban legend.”

You got up to start pacing once again, half to draw everyone’s attention, and half because you felt that incident-resolving excitement start to return. “As you all know, the maid’s concern in this matter is Remilia’s well-being. Who better to fix a malicious urban legend than someone who can erase history itself? Keine is a reasonable, helpful, and responsible individual. She would have no objection to helping to the best of her ability and returning Remilia to full health.”

“And yet, Sakuya wasn’t there. Instead of meeting with the person whose powers are uniquely suited to saving her master… she chose to chase down Sumireko and her allies, fighting her way through powerful humans and youkai both. A decision that directly prevented Marisa from apprehending the outsider and bringing the incident to a swift end.”

You gave a serious look to the gathered incident resolvers. “The maid’s actions shocked me at the time, as I couldn’t fathom why she would make such a call. Right up until I learned that Keine’s name had been forgotten entirely. If Sakuya abruptly forgot that Keine existed, then the lengths she went to in capturing Sumireko make far more sense.”

“Could it be self defense?” Akyuu asked. “Sakuya can be aggressively demanding when it comes to Remilia’s wants, let alone something she actually needs. We don’t know if Keine’s ability actually works on urban legends. If she wasn’t able to help the vampire, then hiding her existence might have been the only way to avoid herself getting kidnapped.”

Miko shook her head. “I think not. Sakuya may have the strongest desire to serve I’ve ever seen, but the maid is extremely practical. She would be well aware that asking for willing help from this Keine is a far better prospect than threatening unwilling help out of her.”

“Exactly.” you said. “Not only does it make little sense for Sakuya to start off with threats, but there’d be no need for Keine to hide her existence entirely. She knows how to use her ability - she could simply hide the fact that she’s able to conceal history and present herself as a purely mundane schoolteacher.”

“Which would let her continue her day-to-day life unimpeded and avoid worrying Akyuu,” Byakuren realized.

You hid a smile, carrying the point forwards. “As such, the inescapable conclusion is that Keine has been forced to hide her existence. And if Keine has been forced into using her powers, then it only stands to reason the culprit coercing her sought to use her powers for themselves."

As you spoke you altered the illusion one more time, a shadowy figure forming behind the now fearful-looking Keine. Everyone’s attention was hooked, as you looked up to the crowd.

"Therefore, only one question remains: is there anyone else missing from everyone's memory?" You paused, letting the rhetorical question hang in the air. "If we find another who has leapt clear of history's pages... then we can only conclude that they are to blame for this incident's forestalled end."

Akyuu’s expression nearly passed for keen interest, but the beads of sweat breaking out across her forehead betrayed her. You smirked, giving the chronicler a knowing look as you continued tightening the noose. "But how do we find this final culprit, the urban legend incident’s true mastermind? It could be anyone, from a great youkai to a humble human. In some senses, it should be no-one, with all traces of their existence scrubbed away. And yet, whether through luck or fate, I believe I’ve found the truth. I know exactly who is at fault."

[-] To be continued.

((Fun fact, in addition to being a new thread starter, this update takes USiL over the 300k words milestone. Not counting TFatS or other sidestory/omake content. Thanks to everyone who's stuck around! It's kind of crazy realizing just how far the story has come... but there's still a long way to go. Here's hoping I'm able to see this through to completion.))