Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Someone knocks, and Hatate just about vaults over a table before catching herself to check her reflection in a mirror hanging on the wall. She postures herself before the door. Shoulders back, chin up. One deep breath in, and out through her nose. She hadn’t been expecting anyone this early. Hatate adjusts her tie one last time, as if anyone would even notice or care that it isn’t perfectly centered below her throat, and pulls the door open with a bright smile.

“Welco—“ Her smile falls into a scowl as fast as a rock dropping into a pond. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Aya leans forward and grins. “Good morning to you too, Himekaidou.”

All of that buzzing anticipation leaves Hatate’s chest in one annoyed ugh, and she would shut the door in Aya’s face if Aya weren’t already shouldering her way inside. Aya, to her credit, at least kicks her shoes off and removes her hat, holding it flat against her chest as she enters and looks around the cabin. At this morning hour, the sun spills plentiful light through the windows and across the floor.

“Hey, not bad. You actually cleaned this place up by yourself?”

“Obviously. Since this was my idea, it’d be totally pathetic if I pushed the hardest parts onto someone else so I could reap the benefits,” Hatate says, inwardly apologizing to the white wolves who had done most of the heavy lifting for her. To be fair, they offered! And then they outright insisted she accept their help, because they were bored out of their minds on their patrol. But if she admitted that she let the wolves restore and refurbish the cabin for her, Aya would probably find some way to use it against her. Hatate clears her throat. “Seriously, though. What are you doing here?”

“Curiosity. Mostly. Maaaybe with a dash of skepticism,” Aya says, dragging a finger along a windowsill. She stops and tilts her head toward Hatate. “I’d wager a guess that I’m the first to come here? Those ads you put in your newspaper didn’t sound so promising.”

“I-I’ve only been open for an hour! Less than an hour, even!” Hatate protests. She tightly crosses her arms. “It’s not fair to judge my new business when it hasn’t even had the chance to get off the ground.”

She reflexively flinches at her own usage of that word— business. Aya seems to notice, but only acknowledges it with a sly quirk of her lips. As if it matters! It shouldn’t matter! Technically, there is no monetary exchange involved, so technically she’s doing nothing wrong.

This building had probably once been used by a human hunter from ages past, and then served as a mountain hag’s storage shed before being abandoned to the elements once more. Structures like these are hidden in plain sight all over the mountain; ancient shrines, crumbling temples, and human abodes reclaimed by nature are all free game to the youkai. Hatate came across this one by pure chance. The timing just happened to line up perfectly with the idea she’d been brewing on and off for the past few months.

The rest happened over the beginning weeks of summer: clearing the dirt, the debris, the rubble, the trash; chasing away the evil spirit that had been lurking beneath the rotting floorboards; sweating in the shade while the wolves patched up the walls; carrying in furniture to make the cabin feel less haunted and more cute.

And it is cute, now. And cozy. In her opinion.

“I’m perfectly free to judge this new venture based on your previous… results with Kakashi Spirit News,” Aya says, the word failure implicitly slipped somewhere in there. She brings her fingertip up to eye level, rubbing it against her thumb to check for imaginary dust.

“I thought you of all tengu would be all over this chance to diversify,” Hatate shoots back. “Isn’t that what you’re always going on about? Innovation? New ideas? Change? I’m offering something new! Something that no one else in our village has ever done before! Maybe you’re just, like… ohh, I don’t know, jealous that you didn’t come up with it first.”

Aya lowers her hand and narrows her eyes. There wasn’t any need for her to check for dust in the first place, because Hatate swept this place from corner to corner after the white wolves fixed the roof. She’s just nitpicking for no damn reason, Hatate thinks.

“Even if I were to step away from my lauded position as an award-winning journalist—“

“What awards have you ever won?!”

“—I’d pick a new career more dignified than relationship counselor.”

Hatate’s shoulders stiffen. “Oh, yeah? Then let’s hear your amazing ideas.”

Knock-knock-knock. Both their heads turn to the door in perfect sync. Knock-knock-knock.

”Hello? Helloooo?”

Hatate shoves Aya aside. “Finally!”

For the second time that morning, like another stone tossed into the pond, Hatate’s smile drops when she opens the door to reveal none other than the Moriya shrine maiden on the doorstep, her knuckles poised in the air for another series of knocks.

“Oho, the mountain’s law enforcement has arrived,” Aya breezily says, peering over Hatate’s shoulder. “Here to deliver the gohei of justice upon my poor junior’s illegal operations?”

“What’s so illegal about what I’m trying to do?!”

Sanae’s mouth opens, then closes, and her fist returns to her side. “Pardon, um—“ She glances between Hatate and Aya. “I wasn’t expecting to see Miss Shameimaru here, is all. The ad said that Hatate is the one running this thing.”

“… You’re not here to investigate?” Hatate cautiously asks, gripping the edge of the door just in case she needs to rip it off its hinges and throw it at Sanae. Or better yet, maybe she should throw Aya at Sanae to give herself a window of escape. She dares to steal a glance behind her to gauge how fast she would need to be to grab Aya’s stupid face.

But Sanae shakes her head. “I didn’t get the feeling you were doing anything sketchy. Unless… hey, are you up to no good after all?!”

“Shhh!” Without thinking twice about it, Hatate grabs Sanae’s arm instead of Aya’s (stupid) face and pulls her inside, nearly tumbling into Aya in the process. Which probably didn’t do anything to help her proclamation of innocence, but rumors are all too easily carried by the mountain winds. “It’s not a business! It’s… it’s exactly as my ad said. I’m just offering help to whoever wants it!”

She half-expects Sanae to respond with some measure of violence, but Sanae was apparently telling the truth when she said she didn’t come here to investigate (or beat up anyone).

Yet.

“If you’re just playing one of your tengu tricks…!” Sanae warningly says, yanking her arm back.

“I’m not!” Hatate says, at the same time Aya says, “She definitely is.”

“Mmmh, ahh, well,” Hesitation. Consideration. “Then if you’re actually giving advice on… you know… romance stuff…”

Though a bead of sweat steadily makes its way down Hatate’s temple, she beams. A client! A real client! Granted, this particular client would probably whip out a spell card if Hatate gave anything less than a sage’s wisdom, but she has to start somewhere. While Sanae continues to fidget in deep thought, Hatate slides behind Aya and pushes her toward the door.

“Client confidentiality,” Hatate says, curt. Aya digs her heels in and she pushes harder. “As if I’d let you listen in! Get lost, already!”

“This is no way to treat your senior! I’m only trying to help!” Aya protests, though she stumbles outside anyway, unable to get another word in before Hatate slams the door shut. Aya appears in the window, face smushed against the glass. Hatate pulls the curtains shut.

So be it. Let her try to eavesdrop, then. Hatate would’ve been a fool not to anticipate something like this happening, anyway; the ongoings of the Human Village could only distract Aya for so long before she returned her attention to the mountain.

At least someone noticed what she’s doing. The Great Tengu is, as always, too preoccupied to acknowledge anything going on below her feet. Even if this somehow goes against whatever regulations the Great Tengu had established, Hatate doubts her boss would bother directly dealing with her.

“So,” Sanae starts, and Hatate hastily gestures to a pair of cushions set across each other, a low table between them.

“H-Have a seat!” she chirps, all too aware that she’d forgotten to bring tea and snacks from her roost in the village.

“I’ll cut right to the chase,” Sanae says, lowering herself to sit. “I want a girlfriend.”

Hatate pauses. “… Sorry, what?”

“I want a girlfriend!” Sanae says, more desperate than aggressive as she slaps her palms on the table. “Isn’t that the kind of consultation you’re offering?!”

“Well, kind of, but also—!”

“Lady Kanako and Lady Suwako have each other and it’s gross and unfair whenever they cuddle when they think I’m not looking but I am looking and I’ve been thinking that maybe it’d be nice if I could also have someone to cuddle with because it looks nice and warm and—“

“—more along the lines of like, helping couples fix their issues! That sort of counseling! Yanno, like—“

“—they probably wouldn’t be against it, but I’ve been so busy with my duties, and we’ve been getting more visitors to the shrine lately, not to brag or anything—“

“—but I’m also most definitely not any kind of professional and I’m definitely not a matchmaker… I mean, maybe i could give it a shot, it sounds kinda fun when I say it out loud—“

“—wouldn’t even know where to start because I’m pretty sure the girls my age in the Human Village think I’m a total weirdoooooo!!”

Sanae’s wail effectively pinches off their overlapped shouting, most of which was probably unintelligible if Aya was lurking outside with her ear pressed to the wall. Hatate stares at Sanae. Sanae stares back.

“… So you can help me?” Sanae finally asks, slightly out of breath and cheeks flushed.

Hatate slowly nods. “Maybe. Probably. Depends— first things first, are youkai off the table?”

Sanae mirrors Hatate’s nod. “As a representative of the Moriya Shrine, I definitely can’t date any youkai. Um, no matter how cute she is. Sorry.”

“Oh. Haha, wow, I wasn’t talking about myself, but I’m super flattered.”

“I wasn’t talking about you either!” Sanae sputters. She runs a hand over her face, glancing off to the side. “N-Not to say you aren’t cute, even if you’re a tengu— uh, um, could we go back to the part where I just said I want a girlfriend?”

Hatate resists the urge to pull on her hair. “Hey, don’t sweat it. The Great Tengu would totally burn me if that happened, anyway. So. You can’t date youkai, and you think the girls in the Human Village wouldn’t be into you, either. Who’s even left?”

“I…” Sanae’s gaze slides lower and lower until she’s staring at the floor. “I already maybe prooobably had someone in mind.”

“Who, Reimu?” Hatate laughs. Her laughter fades when Sanae’s face turns a deeper shade of red. “Oh. Reimu. Seriously?”

When it comes down to the nitty gritty details, Hatate supposes it’s not much of a shocker— not worthy of a headline, even. A rivalry blooming into romance is a tale as old as time. It’s a cliché, is what it is. The Moriya Shrine miko seeking the company of one of her own followers would’ve served a much more salacious story; after all, Sanae could hardly be called a human herself, in Hatate’s opinion, despite her very human posturing.

No god Hatate had ever met has presented themselves with an apple-red countenance, mumbling about a violent brute like Reimu Hakurei as if she were a flowering damsel. No god would even entertain the idea of approaching a lowly nobody-tengu like Hatate for advice. The gods simply act as they will, reaching for what they desire without question, if they would even hold such desires in the first place. They don’t need to second-guess themselves.

Maybe Sanae can still be called a human, then. Huh.

Sanae abruptly stands. “Sorry, maybe this was a bad idea—“

“Wait!” Hatate cries out. “I’ll help. I don’t really get why you’re into someone like Reimu, but I’ll help. That’s what I said I’d do, right?”

Thankfully, Sanae does not make a beeline for the door, but she does fidget on the spot like she’s considering it. “It’s not like you could go talk to her for me, since she’d probably just beat you up, so…”

“Oh, obviously I wouldn’t do that, I’m not an idiot,” Hatate says, waving her wrist. “Sit back down, girl. I’ll tell you what to do.”

It’s just about time for lunch when Sanae finally leaves, wearing an optimistic smile and her cheeks still ruddy from both sweat and abashment. She doesn’t seem to notice Aya crouched beneath the window like a bug. Or maybe she simply doesn’t care. Hatate steps outside to watch Sanae fly off downhill, hands on her hips and exhaustion already creeping up over her shoulders. That was a lot of work just for one customer; maybe she’ll close up early and take the rest of the day off. Yeah, she totally earned it.

“Well?” Aya demands, pushing herself up to her feet. “How’d it go?”

“Why should I tell you? Client confidentiality, remember?” Hatate sticks her tongue out.

“Fine, be that way,” she scoffs. “But, color me impressed— I will say that I didn’t take you to be much of a manipulator. Not anyone could rope in and toy with the Moriya shrine maiden so brazenly like you just did.”

“I wasn’t messing with her, you asshole,” Hatate says, scowling. “She really did want my help, so I gave it to her. That’s all it was. But I guess you’re so used to dishonesty and underhanded tactics that you can’t wrap her head around the idea, right?”

“Are you questioning my integrity as a, might I remind you, award-winning journalist?”

“Again, what awards are you even talking about?!”

“But what’s in it for you?” Aya asks, eyes narrowing. “If it’s money you’re going to have to report your earnings to the Great Tengu, and I’m under the impression that you’re trying to stay off her radar. Is it money?”

“Nope,” Hatate says. She folds her hands behind her head, pleased with herself. “I’m not charging a single mon to any of my clients.”

“… Huuuh? Don’t tell me you’re doing it out of the goodness of your naive little heart. Not even you would put Kakashi Spirit News on hiatus just for a charity stunt.”

“I am gaining something from all this,” Hatate says, locking the door behind her. “But like I said, I’m not giving you any info, you good-for-nothing.”

Someone as stupidly persistent as Aya would be able to figure it out eventually. She had gotten a small part of it right, though. The tengu are intrinsically drawn to the idea of helping others, after all, and no matter how much of an outlier Hatate may be among the other outspoken and gregarious crow tengu, she is still a tengu. And as a tengu, she wouldn’t do all this purely for no reason, either.

This afternoon, Sanae is either going to beat the crap out of Reimu and earn her rival miko’s affections, or beat the crap out of Reimu and return to the status quo of pining in silence. Hatate isn’t really sure if her advice is going to work or not, but ultimately, it’s all going to be up to whatever Sanae chooses to do. Will she stand victorious over Reimu and deliver her confession in the smoldering heat of the battle’s aftermath? Or will she wither and choose the coward’s way out in defeat?

Hatate knows what she’d do, if she were in Sanae’s position. And now Sanae knows as well. That mutual understanding is to remain between the two of them, no matter what happens.

“C’mon, not even a hint?” Aya smirks, fluttering around Hatate.

Hatate shoves at Aya’s face with one hand. “No.”

Chapter Text

After the unexpected success of her grand opening, Hatate supposes it’s only fair in the grand scheme of cosmic karma, and balance, and destiny, and all that blah-blah-blah, that misfortune should find her on only the second day.

It could be too preemptive to call it a stroke of bad luck, though. After all, her new office hasn’t been destroyed.

Yet.

For now, she sits with her back kept straight and hands curled on her lap as if she were meditating, waiting for her new visitors to stop rifling through her desk and come to join her on the floor. Or leave. On second thought, maybe it’d be for the best if that amanojaku and her companion ignored her altogether and left on their own accord.

They won’t find anything noteworthy among the things she’d brought here. Besides having no reason to carry her work all the way to the foothills, Hatate was simply too lazy to consider it. As such, anything that would actually be worth stealing is all safe in her home.

“Damn, it’s really just a buncha trash,” Seija declares in disgust, kicking over a stack of last month’s issue of Kakashi Spirit News.

Shinmyoumaru pokes her head out from a drawer. “Hey, Seija! I found some calligraphy pens that look kind of fancy! You think we could sell these off?”

“Lemme see,” Seija says, gesturing, and Shinmyoumaru obligingly hauls each pen one at a time onto her waiting palm. Once the last one is in her grasp, Seija stomps over to Hatate and waves them in her face. “Oi, tengu. We’re taking these for ourselves, got it? Don’t even try to stop us!”

“Whatever, it’s just junk that I picked up off the ground,” Hatate says, pointedly staring straight ahead. “Is this your idea of petty revenge after we instigated that manhunt? Emphasis on petty. Talk about sad.”

“Oh, yeah?!” Seija squeezes her fist and the pens crack into dry shards, testament to how little they were worth. “What’re you gonna do, keep sittin’ there like a coward?!”

Hatate rolls her eyes. “If you two wanna pick a fight, go higher up the mountain. Nobody’s interested in collecting your bounty anymore. …Actually, like, I don’t even know if your bounty’s still active.”

“Gyahaha! Hear that!” Seija turns to Shinmyoumaru, gloating. “I’m yesterday’s news! They’re totally sick of me!”

“Hehe, yeah! Let’s start a riot in the tengu village! They think they’re so great, looking down on everyone below the mountain… I bet it’ll be waaay too easy to knock ‘em down a peg or two!”

“Damn, you’re definitely onto something there!”

Anyone else would have jumped to respond to their blatant provocations, but Hatate would consider herself to be considerably smarter than that. These two are just a couple of hooligans looking for easy entertainment, that much is obvious. The amanojaku did cause a stir all those seasons ago, but Seija was technically right; she’s yesterday’s news, already forgotten and treated as a normal fixture in the grand background of Gensokyo.

Hatate doubts that Seija even remembers which tengu took part in the manhunt, when Seija had encroached on the mountain. The two of them didn’t exactly have the time to exchange pleasantries or names with all those bullets flying.

The inchling, however… Hatate squints at her as she hops up on Seija’s shoulder, sneezing from the sawdust left in the far recesses of the desk. She’s getting it all over Seija’s shirt, but Seija doesn’t seem to mind.

“Weren’t you staying with the Hakurei shrine maiden?” Hatate asks.

“I was, until that other shrine maiden showed up last night and started blasting bullets everywhere,” Shinmyoumaru says, pouting.

Oops.

“So I got blown away and happened to run into my old buddy here,” she continues, affectionately pulling on Seija’s earlobe—

“Don’t call me your buddy, ya little squirt, I’ll crush ya into mince between my claws—“

“And one thing led to another, and we heard about this new tengu business, and we decided to come see how dumb it is for ourselves! Hehe!”

Ah. So they didn’t come to rob her or to pick a fight. They came to make fun of her.

Hatate presses her lips into a thin, flat line.

“For someone who’s been spending a lot of time with Gensokyo’s premiere youkai exterminator, you’re being awfully bold,” Hatate says, careful not to make eye contact with Seija. Shinmyoumaru sticks her tongue out. “So, what— you’re going through a rebellious phase? Wooow. That’s sooo cute.”

“Am not! I can do whatever I want, whether or not Reimu approves or… or knows about it!” Shinmyoumaru says. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to spend time with my best buddy!”

“Quit calling me your buddy,” Seija growls, though she makes no movement to swat Shinmyoumaru or brush her off her shoulder. “I told ya, I only picked you up ‘cuz I was bored and wanted to kill some time! Got it?!”

They continue in an aimless back and forth over what Shinmyoumaru is and isn’t allowed to call Seija. Hatate watches them with some disinterest for a while before unfolding her legs and standing up, brushing past Seija to tidy up the mess they’d left on her desk: strewn papers, an upturned inkwell, stray feathers scattered onto the floor. Even if she did leave notes about what she and Sanae had spoken about the other day, she doubts they would’ve taken the time to read them (or care).

The least they could’ve done was put more effort into pretending like they wanted to blackmail her! Seija could have claimed justification, too, since the tengu really were the ones who inflamed the violence directed at her.

But she’s an amanojaku. If anything, she’d probably set some of their trees on fire as her way of expressing genuine gratitude for helping her make more enemies.

What about the inchling, though? The Miracle Mallet is old news. Someone like Seija wouldn’t continue to fixate on it after all this time. New ulterior motives, then? Hatate shuts the drawer Shinmyoumaru had been snooping in and loudly clears her throat.

“Well, since you’re here, I might as well offer a free consultation,” Hatate says, sickly sweet just because she knows that would piss off Seija. “Gosh, I already tense so much tension between the two of you! Can I ask how you would describe your relationship?”

“I ain’t answerin’ a single thing!”

“Seija’s my buddy!”

“Aaagh, shut up, you!”

“I see, I see,” Hatate says, nodding. She sits and crosses her legs, tapping her fingers against the worn surface of her desk. Talking to an amanojaku might seem tricky, but they’re more straightforward than she had initially imagined. Everything pisses them off as much as everything brings joy. No matter what she says, she imagines Seija would only grow more agitated, but a gut feeling tells her that Seija wouldn’t flick Shinmyoumaru away.

And if she did, Shinmyoumaru would probably hop right back onto her shoulder and jab a needle into her ear, or something.

“W-Wait, we don’t need your conser-vation!” Shinmyoumaru yells like an overexcited child. “Seija and I are doing just great on our own!”

“Piss off!” Seija snarls, and Hatate can’t tell if she’s agreeing with Shinmyoumaru or still playing her role as the contrarian.

“At least you two seem to be on the same page for now,” Hatate flatly says. “Hey, inchling. Are you really happy being with a youkai like that? You know you’d never be able to find true happiness in the company of an amanojaku. It’s kinda my job to ask questions like that, by the way.”

She expects Shinmyoumaru to simply shout again, but she pauses in thought and folds her arms. “It’s not about being happy, it’s more about… having fun, I guess? Don’t think I’m always sitting nice and quiet in Reimu’s room! I like to have fun, too.”

“You’d be surprised at what kinda ideas this little peabrain can come up with,” Seija scoffs, pointing a thumb at Shinmyoumaru and nearly jabbing her right in the gut. “She keeps buggin’ me to help her with this and that nonsense— it really pisses me off!”

Hatate mulls this over. Then she almost says it out loud, but stops herself just as the words come to the tip of her tongue: So she does make you happy, amanojaku.

It’d almost be sweet, if it weren’t Seija.

“But whatever, I’ve had plenty of this. Tch, won’t even fight us… coward,” Seija says, spitting at Hatate’s feet. “C’mon, Shinmyoumaru! Let’s go burn down the Tengu village!”

“Yeaaah!”

The door was set to swing inward, but Seija ignores this design and delivers a hard kick to smash it clean off its hinges. Hatate winces and starts after them, but stops at the empty doorway to watch them run off.

“Good luck with that, you idiots!” Hatate calls after them, and she receives noisy jeering in response. She sighs aloud, carefully hoisting the cracked door up and leaning it against the side of the cabin. She can’t say she particularly cares about the well-being of that amanojaku, but she also can’t help but hold a droplet of concern for Shinmyoumaru. But if it’s as she says and it’s merely about their revelry in freedom, then there’s nothing to worry about.

All those two have to worry about are the white wolves ready to beat the stuffing out of them for trespassing. They won’t be able to make it to the village, anyway, much less get the chance to set anything on fire. Hatate considers flying ahead to warn the others about Seija and Shinmyoumaru just to say she said something, but… nah, it’ll be fine.

Might as well close up early today too, though. Relationship counseling is harder than she expected.

Chapter Text

“Hey, there. ‘Scuse us. Do you take walk-ins?”

She hadn’t gotten around to getting the door fixed, and the weather’s been agreeable, so she’d dragged her chair outside to lounge in the dappled sunlight peering through the trees. A pleasant breeze makes its way down the mountain, chasing off the relentless barrage of the summer heat. It’s the perfect weather for a nap. Hatate lifts her sunglasses, eyes bleary, and realizes she’d slept through the better part of the morning and into the afternoon.

A shadow appears above her, blocking the light. Hatate blinks and squints. The dark shape gradually comes into focus, and Hatate realizes that that’s Kanako Yasaka peering down at her.

Hatate rolls off her chair and lands in the grass with an undignified oof.

“Did you hear her, tengu?” Kanako asks, nudging her with her toe. “Do you accept walk-in appointments or not?”

It’s then that Hatate notices a second silhouette outlined by the sun, standing just a bit behind Kanako.

Well. Seems that she’s been graced by the presence of both gods of the Moriya Shrine.

Hatate groans and sits up. “Walk-in…?”

“It isn’t as though we could have called ahead to make an appointment,” Kanako says with a sniff. She tilts her head toward the very open entrance to the cabin, door propped beside it. “No clients booked today, Miss Tengu?”

“Um—“ Hatate rises to her feet, unsure whether she should be bowing in deference or not. They’re supposed to be on friendly terms with those two gods, but the Great Tengu had never specified the extent of the veneration they’re owed. Hatate isn’t a tengu with the social standing to ever meet the all-important gods face-to-face. The tengu at the bottom rung shouldn’t have to worry about things like pageantry and ceremony.

Kanako folds her arms, watching her expectantly.

“I mean, I guess— a walk-in, sure,” Hatate says, rubbing the back of her neck. She glances between Kanako and Suwako, the smaller god’s eyes obscured beneath the brim of her hat. “Haha, wow, I didn’t expect such— such, uh, esteemed guests. Like, I would’ve brought my best cups if I knew you two were coming.”

Maybe that was too casual? She prepares to ask forgiveness for her insolence, but to her surprise, Kanako’s thin smile broadens into something genuine and pleased. … At least, Hatate thinks it’s genuine.

“I like this one’s manners!” Kanako loudly says to Suwako, chin held high. “It seems the Great Tengu could take some cues from her own subordinates!”

“This is the third time you’ve complained about Iizunamaru today, dear.”

A sniff. “You can’t say it’s unwarranted.”

Suwako says to Hatate: “Don’t pay attention to this old lady’s ramblings. She’s just sore that your boss stonewalled her when she tried to bring up the idea of organizing scenic hikes around the summit. Y’know, for the humans.”

Reflexively, Hatate would agree that that’s a terrible idea and only an idiot would suggest such a thing; the mountain has historically been the domain of the gods and youkai, not a… a tourist attraction for humans. But that’s what a tengu would say. With the advent of the ropeway and humans freely crossing back and forth across their territory, why not expand? Why not shake up that old, stagnant rule that says humans can’t intrude under any circumstance? Why not use tourism to rake in both profit and faith and have some fun while they’re at it?

Hatate frowns. Ah, well, it’s not really her place to voice her opinions on those matters. As if she’d ever hold any sway in those bigwig decisions.

“Sooo… are you here for counseling for the two of you, or between you and my boss?”

If Kanako were any less dignified, she might have sputtered. Instead, Suwako cackles and nudges her with an elbow. “Might as well, eh?! A mediator’d speed up the negotiations!”

Kanako shoves down hard on Suwako’s head with the heel of her palm and flashes a sharp smile at Hatate. “No. Forget I mentioned your boss. Actually, curiosity brought us to your little…” She glances behind Hatate, at the broken door and the leaves that had been swept inside by the wind. “… Office.”

Sigh. “You’re not the first.”

“To our understanding, our Sanae sought out your services not too long ago,” Kanako says, not accusingly. “So we wanted to see what exactly she’d walked into. It’s very unlike her to seek counsel from a youkai.”

A series of images flashes through Hatate’s mind without thoughtography: Sanae flying at the Hakurei Shrine like a homing missile; Reimu wrinkling her face in a scowling squint at the approaching projectile; Sanae hastily declaring a spellcard and sending a shower of frogs and snakes right down on Reimu’s scrunched-up face.

Her guesses end there. She can’t imagine how the rest of it would have gone. But surely it didn’t end in disaster, since Kanako and Suwako aren’t trying to beat her up.

It’s not her fault if it escalated! All she did was tell Sanae to be direct with her feelings!

“Are ya even qualified for this job?” Suwako asks, poorly concealing a smirk behind her sleeve. “Whatever you told Sanae ain’t exactly the type of advice you’d get in the Outside World.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not in the Outside World,” Hatate shoots back. She ignores the first question.

“I, for one, applaud you for sneaking behind the Great Tengu’s back!” Kanako says (loudly, again).

“Look, do you need any advice or not?!”

The two gods glance at each other, a wordless conversation spanning between them in a blink and a half.

“Not particularly.”

“Nope.”

She throws her hands up in the air. “You don’t even wanna know why Sanae came to me instead of you two? Like, you’re supposed to be the ones looking out for her! You make up all these rules about how she can’t date this-person-and-that-youkai, and put all these expectations on her, but she’s not just a shrine maiden, you know? She needs room to breathe, too.”

“Also—“ Hatate knows she’s likely getting ahead of herself, but who cares? Kanako and Suwako are actually listening. Or maybe they’re too shocked to interrupt and smite her for this transgression. “You gotta stop making out with each other where she can see. Yeah, she notices, don’t act so surprised.”

The wind had paused somewhere in the middle of Hatate’s tirade, as if the trees and insects hold their breath to listen in on this young, foolish tengu berating these ancient gods towering before her. In any other time, in any other era, she’d pay for her insolence, but things aren’t like that anymore. Not entirely, anyway. Kanako looms over her, something dark brewing in her eyes, but it recedes when Suwako pulls her back by her wrist.

“Wise words to consider,” Suwako chuckles. “We have been getting a bit careless. Riiight, Kanako?”

“Tsk, I wouldn’t say that’s entirely accurate…”

“Either way, it’s refreshin’ to get an outside perspective now and then. Hehe… you’re outspoken, even for a tengu. How’d someone like you end up playing at being a mediator, when all you guys do is spread gossip?”

She’s trying to flip the conversation around, Hatate realizes. This isn’t about her, it’s about them. Of the two gods, it’s Suwako she should be more careful around. Kanako is loud and has an imposing presence, but at least she’s upfront with her intentions.

The Moriya god is fishing around for the truth, but Hatate won’t bite the bait that easily.

“You could say I got bored,” Hatate says, casually propping one hand on her hip. “Same as you, really. That’s all it is.”

Suwako’s smile is lopsided; she isn’t buying it, but she slowly nods nonetheless.

“Ah, speaking of, it’s about time we made our leave,” Kanako declares. “Though the advice was uncalled for, I appreciate bearing witness to a wholly creative venture. You possess the spirit of innovation, unlike some other boors I dare not mention in polite company! Yes, I do look forward to seeing what may come of this.”

“Yeah, what she said. Might wanna get that door fixed, though,” Suwako says, already ambling away with Kanako in tow. She lifts a hand. “See ya around, tengu.”

“Do you think we should have a sit-down with Sanae tonight…?”

“Ahhh, I love it when you fret like that.”

“Don’t try to tease me, it makes you sound slimy.”

Unsure what else to do, Hatate bows and thanks them for their visit a second too late; they’re already out of earshot. They disappear past the trees and she’s left in the company of birdsong and buzzing insects. She loudly exhales and flops down on her chair, tilting her head back to catch the sunlight filtering through the leaves. Old gods like that are such a pain, honestly.

Still, she supposes their visit wasn’t entirely a waste. In a way, Kanako and Suwako gave their blessing, right? It’s the next best thing after being overlooked by Lady Iizunamaru. The thought of bringing her ideas up to the Great Tengu crosses her mind again, but Hatate shrugs it off.

Upper management is even more a pain to deal with than a pair of curmudgeonly gods. She abruptly laughs out loud at the realization that she sort of understands how Kanako feels. Hatate smiles to herself. For the first time in years, she looks forward to working tomorrow.

Chapter Text

The door takes half a day to fix because Hatate squanders at least two hours doing nothing, and then another hour testing how many ways she can prop the door up without it tipping over, and then an undetermined amount of time is spent debating whether she should go ask the white wolves for yet another favor, and then she gets distracted with reading older issues of Kakashi Spirit News and wincing at the various typos she’d overlooked when they were published.

All in all, it was a very productive morning.

As the late afternoon shadows creep across the forest floor, it gradually dawns on Hatate that the whole day had nearly gone by without a client or visitor in sight. She tries to squash down the anxiety crawling up her back. So what if she doesn’t see anyone today? That’s fine, it’s totally fine. She can’t expect every day to be a rousing success. It’s not like she’s doing this for the money, anyway.

… The door still isn’t fixed.

Just as she’s considering soliciting the kappa (they could totally use some relationship counseling with the yamawaro, right?), two rabbits emerge from the bushes, muttering something about cobwebs and ants.

Hatate brightens. “Seiran! What’re you doing here?”

“Hey, Hatate,” Seiran awkwardly waves, brushing dirt off her dress. Ringo peers out from behind her, eyes flitting to the broken door.

Yeah, she really needs to get that fixed. Later.

Seiran draws a tightly rolled newspaper from her pocket, apparently more to give her hands something to wring than to present it to Hatate. “We saw your ad, and, uh, also heard about it. This thing you’re doing, I mean.”

“Complimentary arbitration, yeah?” Ringo chimes in, hands folded behind her head.

“Relationship counseling," Hatate automatically corrects. “… But, yeah, close enough. Oooh, are you two here for…?”

Pink flushes across Seiran’s face but she grimaces, more annoyed than flustered. She pulls Ringo out in front of her, gripping the shorter rabbit by the shoulders like a shield. “Yes. We’re here for that.”

“Haha, wow, no need to be shy! Come in, come in!”

The way Ringo shrugs and flashes a lopsided smile suggests that this wasn’t her idea, but she’s too lax to fight against it. Hatate gestures for them to follow her inside (through the door-less entryway, but don’t mind that) and Seiran pushes Ringo in. After the events of the previous days, Hatate half-expects them to admit they’re here just to gawk or ask questions or, or something or other. Certainly not to receive advice the way Hatate intended, no— that just sounds too preposterous to be true.

They sit together at one side of the table, Seiran’s legs neatly folded and Ringo carelessly sprawled beside her.

“‘Kay, so, what’s the problem?” Hatate asks, laying down a notepad and pen without making any indication she intends to take notes.

“It’s…!”

“It’s Seiran being petty,” Ringo says. “Recently, she’s been saying that I have a bad habit of chewing with my mouth open.”

“Well, it’s gross, and I don’t like hearing those mushy noises!” Seiran turns to Hatate, pleading. “Hatate! She projects her chewing noises through our telepathic link! It’s awful!”

“She… what? Ew.”

“Whaaat. C’mon, you’ve gotta admit it’s kinda funny!”

“No, it’s not! It’s rude and u-unbecoming and I’d really appreciate it if you would stop!” Seiran cries out. “I love pounding and eating mochi with you, Ringo, but I’m reaching my limit!”

Ringo straightens up, the corners of her mouth dropping. “Wait, you’re serious. It’s that serious?”

Hatate rubs her temples. It’s… so un-serious, but Seiran is speaking with the inflection of someone who’s prepared to resort to drastic measures. Which, obviously, would be the worst-case scenario, and is definitely Hatate’s job to stop things from coming to that.

“Can’t you just… stop chewing with your mouth open?” she asks Ringo, partially in disbelief she even needs to ask such a question.

“I mean, sure, but,” Ringo rubs the back of her neck. “I’ve always had the habit, ever since we were part of Eagle Ravi together. What’s with the sudden change, Seiran?”

Another bloom of red spreads up Seiran’s face. “I… I guess I just never noticed. But since we’ve been spending so much time together, I…”

The rest hangs in the air, unspoken but there all the same. Hatate holds back a groan. She can’t claim to be any sort of expert on the matter, but they’re such a couple that it’s almost sort of annoying. If the solution is so simple, then being a relationship counselor is easier than she thought. Who cares if she’s not qualified? Anyone with common sense could do this, she thinks.

“Okay, I—“

“Aww, you’re such a sap,” Ringo says, fully turned toward Seiran now. She lightly punches Seiran’s arm. “You’ve been watching me closely, haven’t you?”

“It’s only natural,” Seiran mumbles. “I… I like observing you. I like the way your nose twitches when woodsmoke blows in your direction, and the way you tap your feet when you’re bored. I like when you yell when you swing your hammer at the mochi. I think it’s really cool how you notice everything and everyone around you, even if it’s because you were recon and a part of you never stopped being recon. But I don’t like when you won’t take things seriously, and it bothers me that you don’t wipe your feet before you step inside Eientei! And I especially don’t like how you chew dango with your mouth open!”

“This is all great stuff, you—“

“You sap!” Once again, Ringo speaks over Hatate. “That’s… ugh! How am I even supposed to respond to all that!”

“Well, as your counselor, I—“

“You don’t need to! I know you don’t like to embarrass yourself, so I won’t make you do that! But I’ll hold your jaw shut myself when you eat if that’s what it takes!” Seiran says, emphatic.

“Hey now, that’s not exactly fair, is it?” Ringo nervously chuckles. She reaches for Seiran’s hand. “It’s not like I don’t notice things about you, either. You wring your hands when you’re nervous, and you always have a hard time making eye contact. I think it’s cute. Really cute. And hey— it’s not like you don’t have any bad habits, either! You cling when you sleep and it makes the summer nights unbearable, I’ll have you know.”

“Good, good, expressing your feelings is—“

“I… I cling when I sleep?!” Seiran yanks her hand back, apparently mortified. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Ringo shrugs. “I might sweat and lose shuteye over it, but it’s not a big deal. Guess that’s why I couldn’t wrap my head around you gettin’ so worked up over my chewing.”

“So now we’re reaching a point where—“

“It is a big deal! If I’m making it hard for you to sleep, I’ll stop!” Seiran wrings her hands together, catches herself, and grips her knees instead. “I… don’t want you to get sick of me and leave.”

“No— I’d never… no, I promise I don’t mind that much. It’s great for keeping warm in the winter, anyway.”

“This is where I suggest we—“

“Listen,” Ringo says, laying her hands over Seiran’s without prying her away from her knees, “I’ll quit it with the loud chewing, ‘kay? It might take a while for me to remember every time, but just gimme a kick if I don’t notice. You gotta let me know.”

“I did let you know.”

“Then… I’ll listen more!” Ringo says, helplessly shrugging. “That’s what I’m supposed to do, right? I gotta listen. Not ‘cuz I used to be recon, but because it’s the right thing to do. Aw, Seiran, you got me feeling like an idiot now.”

This time, Seiran’s blush isn’t accompanied by neither a scowl nor grimace. “You are kind of an idiot, sometimes.”

“Healthy communication is—“

“That’s fine by me!” Ringo says. She sheepishly grins and helps Seiran up to her feet. “We’ll keep an eye on each other’s bad habits, and squash down the ones that get real annoying. Sound good?”

“Mmhm…” For the first time since arriving at the cabin, Seiran smiles. “Thanks, Ringo. I’m glad we worked it out. And… oh! Thank you too, Hatate. Come by our dango stalls when you get the chance! We have some new flavors.”

“Just be sure to try mine first,” Ringo says, receiving a good-natured jab to her ribs from Seiran. “Catch ya later, Hatate!”

And they leave and stroll away together, arms linked. Hatate opens her mouth, closes it, and blinks. She blinks again. She has a feeling she may have missed an opportunity or two to speak, but… problem solved, right? That what it seems like, at least. A warm wind blows through the open entryway, disturbing the newspaper Seiran had left behind on the floor. Hatate lies back with a contented sigh.

Wow, she’s even better at this relationship counseling thing than she thought!

Chapter Text

The summer seems to reach its zenith today, bearing down upon the mountain with relentless waves of heat like a storm without rain. It reaches through the trees, blindly groping around what meager relief the shade offers, and finds its way into Hatate’s cabin without an iota of mercy.

Inside, as far away from the sun’s reach as she can manage, Hatate fans herself with a folded up newspaper and glares at the door. It rests crooked against its frame, leaving gaps in the corners and doing absolutely nothing to keep the heat out. Today is definitely not the right day to fix the door. Today is not the right day to do any work whatsoever.

She groans and rolls over onto her side, and someone knocks on the broken door.

“Lunch break,” Hatate calls out. “Please come back tonight, thaaanks.”

“Hard at work, hm?”

Hatate squeezes her eyes shut and brings her palms to her ears. No, no, no. Ugh! Of all the days! She lets out a resigned (and very annoyed) sigh and sits up, wiping sweaty strands of hair away from her eyes. She yells at the door: “Fine! Come in, then!”

With the sun at her back, Megumu’s face is difficult to see when she lifts the door away, head brushing against the entryway. Hatate knew she would have caught the Great Tengu’s attention eventually, especially since the Moriya gods had paid her a visit, but she hadn’t expected her to actually visit in person. At most, she’d thought she’d receive no more than a slap on the wrist delivered by a messenger.

But here the Great Tengu stands, in the flesh, like she has nothing better to do. It’s too hot to be apprehensive. Hatate can’t muster much more than some vague annoyance over how this couldn’t have happened on a cooler day. She puts her head back down and shuts her eyes again.

“Oh, this is cozy,” Megumu says, removing her geta and glancing around. Despite the heat, she looks no worse for wear. Stupid Great Tengu constitution. “Well done, Himekaidou. Renovating this place must have been no easy feat.”

“I had some help,” she mumbles, eyes still closed. “Soooo… what can I do for you, ma’am?”

“Consider it an impromptu performance review.” Hatate can’t hear anything but the rustle of Megumu’s cloak but her voice is getting closer, and then she hears her lowering herself to sit across from her. Then, the light drumming of Megumu’s fingers on the low table. “I heard about what you’re doing and wanted to see the fruits of your labor for myself. So? Did you get what you were looking for yet?”

Warily, Hatate opens one eye and looks up at Megumu. Megumu rests her chin on one hand and smiles, head tilted.

Hatate rolls over, turning her back to Megumu. “Sheesh, talk about a loaded question.”

“Haha, don’t be like that! Here, I brought drinks and a snack for you. I thought you might be hungry,” Megumu says, a blatant jab at Hatate’s earlier claim of being on her lunch break. Curiosity (and… yeah, hunger) gets the better of her and she looks over her shoulder, suspiciously eyeing the spread of onigiri and tea Megumu sets out. What the hell? Was she carrying a basket with her?

It smells too good to ignore. Hatate sits upright and scoots closer to the table. She reaches for the food but pauses, hand hovering over an onigiri.

“… So, like, am I in trouble or not?”

Megumu doesn’t even pretend to ponder the question. She pours tea into a ceramic cup for Hatate. “No, you’re not.”

“Because my newspaper is soooo insignificant and unworthy of your time that it doesn’t matter I put it on hiatus?”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short like that. You’re not breaking any rules, so why should I punish you?”

Hatate’s fingers twitch, still refusing to take an onigiri just yet. Is it possible that Megumu didn’t hear about the Moriya gods visiting…? Sensitive intel like that surely would’ve found its way to the Great Tengu one way or another. But there’s nothing in her expression to suggest the pleasantry is all just a ploy to lower Hatate’s guard.

Ugh, the rice really does smell good. At an insistent and ill-timed growl from her own traitorous stomach, Hatate snatches up the onigiri and helps herself to a bite. Damn it, it’s tasty. She washes it down with a mouthful of barley tea, pleasantly cool and earthy to ward off the muggy heat.

“I would have preferred that you had set up your office closer to our village, but having access to a diverse clientele isn’t a bad move either,” Megumu says. She doesn’t take any of the rice or tea for herself, watching Hatate eat.

“If you’re talking about the gods of the Moriya Shrine, I didn’t invite them. They came on their own, so don’t gimme any grief over it.” Hatate finishes off her tea. Megumu refills her cup without asking. “And they weren’t interested in buying in, anyway. I think they just wanted to know if I was messing with their shrine maiden or not.”

“Well? Were you?”

“Obviously not!” Hatate casts a dour glare at Megumu as she finishes off her first onigiri and grabs another one. “I’m not that mean. Wait, you’re not trying to buy in either, are you? I’m not making any money off this, yanno.”

“I’m aware, yes. But no, it’d be thoughtless of me to meddle with this little start-up of yours. Like I said, I only want to see how far you’ll go with this,” Megumu says. She nudges the box of onigiri closer to Hatate, raising a brow. “Frankly, I’m a little hurt you avoided letting me in on the know.”

Hatate scoffs, taking her time with chewing just to drag out the silence on purpose. Megumu doesn’t seem like the type to ever get awkward, or embarrassed, or uncomfortable with anything ever, but it’s worth a shot. At least she can say she tried to make the Great Tengu squirm in silence (even if the Great Tengu isn’t squirming, she’s sitting perfectly still and staring without blinking).

“Why should I have bothered?” Hatate finally says, swallowing. “I’m allowed to act on my own here and there, aren’t I?”

“Within reason.”

Hatate waves her wrist, flippant. “And this is totally within reason! I’m not causing any trouble! I’m just offering a new service to anyone who’d be interested, Lady Iizunamaru.”

“Then consider me an interested party. Would you be willing to offer counsel to myself, Himekaidou?”

Stunned, Hatate forgets to swallow her food before speaking. Some barley and rice dribbles down her chin and lands on her shirt. “You… want relationship advice from me?”

Megumu’s smile widens and she slouches sideways, crossing one leg over the other. “Sure, let’s go with that. I was just interested in what you would say about my own situation. No, you don’t need to stop eating. All I’d like you to do is listen for now. There are three women I’m currently involved with— five if casual flings count, or seven… no, nine women, if my past affairs still hold any weight. Actually, it was much more than that, but let me start with one of the first three. It was a couple thousand years ago, give or take, along the shores of Lake Biwa where I came across a dying oomukade…”

By the time Megumu returns to the summit, the sun has calmed down in its blazing fury and begins its retreat to make way for the moon, bestowing respite upon those who had endured the searing heat. Hatate lies sprawled on her back, stuck staring at the ceiling in a daze, paying no mind to the long shadows cast across the floor.

Her belly is full of barley rice and barley tea.

Her head is full of nightmarishly vivid images of her boss’s romantic escapades.

Megumu had claimed there would be no punishment for Hatate neglecting to deliver a report— what a crock of shit! Listening to the Great Tengu’s sordid stories was punishment enough, and no amount of onigiri and tea could have made the experience any less horrifying.

Hatate grabs a cushion, places it over her face, and screams.

Chapter Text

When did it all start, anyhow? Did inspiration strike her in a moment of boredom, restless from one too many dissatisfying news stories? Or did it come to her from a past memory of how things were before the barrier was established? Was it her general grievances with the way things are run that spurred her to do something that no other tengu had tried before? What are relationship counselors, anyway?

Hatate wonders all this, trapped in a headlock with nowhere to go.

“I apologize for my associate’s lack of decorum,” Yachie kindly says, not sorry at all and seated at Hatate’s desk like it’s her own, the tip of her tail sweeping along the hardwood floor with a quiet swish, swish, swish. She picks up one of Hatate’s pens (that hadn’t been shattered by Seija) and twirls it between her fingers. One could easily imagine a switchblade in its place. “Discretion, unfortunately, is not Kurokoma’s forte.”

“Who needs discretion when you’ve got guns like these, eh!?” Saki flexes, and her bicep bulges against Hatate’s neck. Hatate can’t breathe. She wasn’t planning to put up a fight in the first place, though she can’t tell if her own lack of resistance is born from sheer apathy or Yachie’s power.

And she liked Kicchou’s Ability Card, too. What an asshole.

“Hm,” is all Yachie says, unimpressed.

“I don’t get it!” Saki says. “What’s the big deal with this little bird?! From the way the beasts were talkin’, I was expecting someone… I dunno, smarter? Stronger? Fearsome?”

“Appearances can be deceiving.” Yachie’s tone is gentle, too gentle. She stands and approaches to tap Hatate’s forehead with the tip of the pen. “Especially when it comes to those who go out of their way to present themselves as something harmless. She’s not even trembling. Such courage.”

Hatate would take offense to that if she could breathe. She’s not trying to fool anyone! She’s just tired from yesterday, and she always looks like this! It’s not her fault she has an impeccably cute style that makes others underestimate her capabilities! Ah, the curse of nonconformity. Maybe if she were indistinguishable from all the other tengu and had shrieked a bit when these two showed up, they would have left her alone.

In a moment of silent protest, she goes completely limp in Saki’s grip. Her neck is going to be unbelievably sore later.

Saki gives her a small shake. “Huh, you think so? Then why ain’t she sayin’ anything?”

“… You’re choking her, Kurokoma. She can’t talk because she can’t breathe,” Yachie says. Then under her breath, low enough that Saki apparently doesn’t hear her, she mutters, “Simpleton.”

“Whoa! Haha, my bad. Here ya go.”

Sweet freedom. Hatate crumples to the floor and debates playing dead on the spot, gasping for air and gingerly rubbing at her throat. Yachie and Saki peer down at her, their legs implicitly forming a cage around her.

Ahh, she’s way out of her league. A pair of malevolent beast spirits is too much for a small fry tengu like her to handle— a pair of malevolent beast spirits who happen to be two of the infamous matriarchs of the Animal Realm is definitely too much. If she yelled loud enough for the wolves on patrol to hear…

On the other hand, when is she ever going to receive such prestigious clients like these jerks again?

“Noooo, please don’t hurt meee,” Hatate drawls, batting her lashes and sticking her lower lip out. “I’m definitely something harmless, just like you said.”

Saki guffaws, while Yachie smiles with the same affect as a schoolteacher patiently tolerating an unruly child’s antics. She conceals her malicious edge so skillfully that Hatate could almost believe she means no ill will, that she had come here for a visit as a perfectly normal client. Yachie drums her claws against her chin, tail still going swish, swish, swish in circles, pupils narrowing to slits.

Hatate quavers. Dealing with the Great Tengu should have prepared her for this (as if anything could have prepared her), but she can’t.

She just can’t.

“Then how’s a little fledgling like you trainin’ others to get stronger?! That’s what I can’t figure out!” Saki says.

“She’s feinting,” Yachie says, frowning. “And trying to make a mockery out of us, apparently.”

Hatate blinks and drops her sickly smile like a hot stone as realization slowly dawns upon her. It’s one thing for information to become muddled as it’s passed along the grapevine, but surely they couldn’t have misinterpreted her to that extent. These two didn’t come up to the surface with the sole purpose of harassing or making fun of her; they’re not crude like the amanojaku is (although, in Kurokoma’s case, an argument could probably be made).

Do they actually think she’s a threat? To what?!

“Wait, wait—“ Hatate says, knowing full well she’s risking her neck by interrupting whatever Yachie was about to say next. She props herself up on her elbows and furrows her brows up at them. “Like, what exactly did you think I’m doing here…?”

Saki makes a sudden movement, boot raised, but Yachie reaches over and presses a palm to her knee. It’s quite possibly the longest four seconds of Hatate’s life, waiting to see if Yachie would actually stop Saki from stomping down on her face. The two beasts stare at each other. Something wordless passes between them, and Hatate gasps in relief when Saki reluctantly lowers her leg.

“Please understand, I’m not here to fight,” Yachie says, all gentle smiles once more. “All I want is information.”

“Client confidentiality—” Hatate blurts out, her heart racing.

Saki raises her boot again. Yachie pushes her leg down again.

“C’mon, Kicchou, just one kick!”

“Always rushing to cause a mess,” Yachie mutters. “Have you ever interrogated someone before?”

“Uh, yeah? I just kick the shit outta them until they fess up. Quick and easy! Your methods are too slow and unreliable, so lemme take over. I’ll show ya how the Keiga family handles things.”

“I think I’d rather have Miss Kicchou interrogate me! Just saying!” Hatate chimes in. Just to show she’s cooperating, she holds her palms up, fingers splayed. “I dunno what you think I’m doing, but I’m definitely not not up to no good. I… uh, wow, sorry, I have no idea how to make that not sound sarcastic.”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t play the fool,” Yachie says. “We know about the passageway leading through this mountain into Hell. This endeavor of yours lines up too well for it to be mere coincidence. The tengu are planning something. Isn’t that right?”

“The… what? Huh?” Her jaw hangs loose in disbelief. What the hell is she going on about? The mountain is nowhere near any of the boundaries leading to Hell, and the—

The other day, I was frolicking with Himemushi underground when we came across a tunnel that led to a part of Former Hell! Ahahaha! Anyway, it was very hot and humid at that depth, so we took our clothes off and—

Megumu’s laughter echoes in her head, pieces of that one-sided conversation surfacing against Hatate’s will. The look on her face must be one of immense pain, because even Yachie’s expression (somewhat) softens in bewilderment and she allows Hatate a moment to gather herself. Saki says something but Hatate doesn’t hear. All she hears is Megumu blathering on about her “secret” rendezvous with the giant centipede.

Maybe… maybe her own sharp memory isn’t such a curse in this instance, after all.

Debatably.

“I…! No, that’s not right. That tunnel isn’t, like, going to Hell. It’s going to Former Hell. I swear! I can show you!” Without waiting for a response or a kick, Hatate scrambles past Yachie’s legs, careful not to crawl over her tail, and makes a hasty grab for her phone on her desk.

“Whoa, there,” Saki laughs. She ambles over, hands stuffed in her pockets, and peers over Hatate’s shoulder. “What’s this, now?”

“Thoughtography,” Yachie murmurs, and Hatate decides she shouldn’t ask how the matriarch of the Kiketsu family already knows about the ability of a no-name tengu like herself.

She fumbles with the phone, all too aware of both Saki and Yachie breathing down her neck. But just a few key inputs and— there, a photo on that tiny screen, dark and grainy but with a distinctive spot of orange at the center. Hatate jabs a finger at it. “There, see? That light is one of the lanterns from the Old Capital! I mean, it's been a while since I've gone there myself, but that’s definitely what it is. Not to brag, but my thoughtography is never wrong.”

“This proves absolutely nothing,” Yachie says, squinting at the photo.

“I dunno, seems like good enough evidence to me. Oi, what’s that thing?” Saki points to a blurry shape in one corner of the photo.

“That’s my boss making out with a giant centipede. Don’t worry about it.”

Yachie, thankfully, decides not to question that, instead turning to Saki with a sneer. “You put your faith in others too easily, Kurokoma. Even the dullest faerie could deceive you.”

Sensing a distraction, Hatate desperately latches on. “Then— if you don’t mind me asking, why did you bring her along, Miss Kicchou?”

“I didn’t. She followed me.” Yachie scowls. It’s the most sincere expression she’s worn so far.

“Come off it, you’re happy to have the back-up,” Saki breezily says. “Ya might be strong, but you’re a fish outta the water when it comes to matters on the surface. Ain’t that why you called me and Toutetsu over for an alliance when all that stuff with Haniyasushin went down?”

“It was a temporary alliance.”

“Hold on— or should I call you… a turtle outta the water?! Gahaha! Ah, wait, that doesn’t work, you’re a tortoise, not a turtle…”

“Shall I kill you?”

Hatate can hardly believe her luck. If she can hold onto this boon and keep the momentum going, there’s a chance they’ll lose interest and leave her alone. Very slowly, but not too slowly, she takes her seat at her desk.

Hostage situation or not, she’s still a (self-proclaimed) relationship counselor.

“So, like, if this is about avoiding conflict—“

“Conflict is our modus operandi,” Yachie interrupts, without tearing her eyes away from Saki. “That is the way of the beast spirits. To eat or be eaten; only the weak resort to treaties and armistice.”

And Saki simply says, in agreement, “Yup. That’s the way it is.”

Hatate considers this. It doesn’t sound too dissimilar from how that amanojaku is… but the beasts’ conflict has purpose beneath the roiling chaos. Yachie is careful and deliberate with every word she uses, and Saki shows remarkable self-restraint for someone so cocky (or she's only holding back because Yachie is here). They could have fought their way past the wolves and reached the summit without bothering with a no-name like her.

She can’t believe it. She’s about to save tengu society and no one’s going to know anything about it.

“Well, if you wanna wage war against the tengu, I’m kinda obligated to let my boss know about it. But I told you, we’re not plotting anything! What would we even gain from trying to attack the Animal Realm?!”

Yachie’s eyes dart to Hatate’s phone. “This program you’re operating here, discreetly gathering allies…”

“Huh?! You mean my relationship counseling service?!”

“See, Kicchou, I told ya you were wrong!” Saki cackles, thumping Yachie’s shell. “This birdy’s just running an exercise gym to strengthen bonds! It ain’t about forming alliances for war! It’s aaall about the gains!”

“A gym— that’s not what it is either!!”

“Pft, you’re missing out on a golden opportunity. Don’t ya want guns like these?!”

“Enough!” For the first time, Yachie raises her voice. Her composure is cracking. Saki flexing in her face probably isn’t helping. She slaps Saki’s arms away and glares down at Hatate, eyes hardened. That’s her real face, Hatate realizes, and yet it’s somehow less scary than that smarmy smile she had arrived with. “… It seems I was mistaken about your true intentions. My sincerest apologies.”

“Oh. Um… that’s okay. I think.”

“But—“ Yachie leans in, and pushes Hatate’s face up with a finger beneath her chin. “Spirits, youkai, beasts, gods… don’t presume that you can solve everyone’s problems so easily. I say this for your own good, little tengu.”

Hatate stares right back into her eyes, emboldened for reasons she can’t even explain. “I’m not trying to solve problems. I’ve got my own reasons for doing this. And they don’t involve, like— politics, or war, or all that other nonsense.”

“Hm.” Yachie slips back into civility like a mask, her smile reshaped into affable courteousness. She steps back and straightens up. “You should consider working for me. Your thoughtography would be invaluable to the Kiketsu family.”

“Oi, oi, Kicchou. Don’t try to scheme right in front of me, it ain’t polite,” Saki says. She winks at Hatate. “The Keiga family’s way more fun. Come work for me, not her.”

“Shut up, Kurokoma. Let’s go. We’ve overstayed our welcome.”

“Ow, don’t pull my tail—“

It worked. It actually worked. They’re leaving on their own and they’ve apparently lost interest in climbing further up the mountain. Hatate looks down and notices she’d been gripping her phone so tightly that the plastic shell is in danger of cracking, and she hastily sets it down. She steals a glance at Yachie and Saki. They’ve paused by the door, backs turned to her, arguing about something or other… but Hatate gets the feeling that whatever it is, it’s personal.

Whatever it is, it’s the reason why they haven’t killed each other.

And then Saki kicks the door with such violent force that it flies off into the distance.

Hatate screams.

“Ahhhhhh!! I just fixed that!!”

Chapter Text

“What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” Hatate shoots back.

Both tengu pause where they stand, Hatate in the entryway with a loaded box in her arms and Aya at the edge of the glade where she’d just landed. The wind settles around their feet. Aya starts with the beginnings of a retort, reconsiders, and crosses the distance between them.

Hatate stays perfectly still as Aya shoulders past her and steps inside, where nothing remains but the furniture that Hatate has no further need for. Carrying all that back to her own home would be too much of a hassle, and she doesn't have space for a second table or a second desk. So it will all remain here, where hopefully another youkai finds some use for this place.

“… You’re closing up shop,” Aya says in disbelief. “I knew you were going to give up eventually, but this soon?”

“Why do you care?” Hatate snaps, harsher than she intends. “You didn’t even bother dropping by during the whole week.”

“Ah, you missed me?”

“No,” Hatate emphasizes with extra force. “I’m just, like, surprised. You were so nosy when I first opened, that I thought I’d catch you snooping around the bushes. …You weren’t spying without me noticing, were you?”

“Sorry to say, but no, I wasn’t,” Aya says. She steps back outside, shielding her eyes against the sun. “I was occupied by other matters. I’d tell you all about it, but every tengu newspaper will be spreading the news soon enough. Every newspaper except yours, that is.”

“Well, isn’t that a shame!”

Hatate begins to move away, but Aya catches her by the shoulder.

“… You sound upset.”

“Wow! With that kind of observational skill, no wonder you’ve won so many imaginary awards for your journalism.”

The stupid thing is, Hatate doesn’t even know why her mood had suddenly plummeted. Obviously it’s because Aya is here— Aya tends to sour the mood with her presence alone, but this is different. She was cheerful this morning, even when caught in the tedium of flying back and forth between the cabin and her roost to move boxes. Everything worked out just as she hoped. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked.

Aya hadn’t visited all week. That’s not why she’s inexplicably angry. No, that can’t be it.

“I’m still obligated to help you out,” Aya says, stepping in front of Hatate to block her path. “As a senior reporter, it’s my job to look out for the youngin’s and make sure they’re walking a righteous path! And that includes you, Hatate.”

“Ew.”

“Okay, okay, I know I gave you grief over your relationship counseling thing falling through, but I wasn’t rooting for you to fail. I swear on my right wing,” Aya solemnly says. “Truthfully… I think we could use more ideas like yours. The tengu have become too complacent with the way things are now. Don’t you agree?”

“That’s not the point— that wasn’t the point,” Hatate says, feeling like a fool. “It’s not my job, or your job, to change the way our people think. You think i’m naive enough to believe this could’ve made a difference? No way. Being a relationship counselor was never meant to be a long-term gig or some kinda statement.”

“I’d like to argue the first part of that, but we’ll discuss that later. What are you talking about? Did you really do all this just on a whim, then? Not that I don’t respect that spontaneity, but I really did believe you were doing something meaningful.” Oh, great, now she sounds disappointed. As if Hatate should even care about disappointing Aya, of all people, and yet she wants to drop her box and reach out and grab Aya’s collar and throttle her until she’s blue in the face.

Instead, Hatate finds a dry tree stump to set her box down and sits in a patch of sunlight. She’d been working hard all morning cleaning out the cabin. She deserves a break. The grass is soft beneath her palms, absent of beetles or worms. This particular patch of land may have been a yamanba’s garden at one point.

Aya wordlessly joins her and sits as well, so close that their arms brush together.

“Yeah, fine, I guess there’s no reason for me to keep playing coy!” Hatate loudly says. “I’ll tell you the real reason why i did all this. But it stays off the record, got it?”

Predictably, Aya hesitates and seems to struggle with Hatate’s bargain, but she nods. That alone is enough reassurance. Hatate would have been wary if Aya responded without sort of indecision. “… Fine. You have my word. I won’t put any of this in the Bunbunmaru.”

“I was gathering intel for my newspaper.”

Aya squints. Her mouth opens and she forgets to close it. Hatate lets out a snort of laughter— if only Aya could see the look on her own face!

“… You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No, that’s really it.” Hatate nonchalantly pulls some blades of grass and throws them in the air for the wind to catch. “I’ve been thinking about why Kakashi Spirit News never caught on. It’s not because my writing is bad, thank you very much.”

Oh, this is gold. Aya’s too stricken to even grab that bait and tease Hatate about the way she writes. For once in her something-thousand years, Aya says nothing and waits for Hatate to continue.

“Like, my thoughtography’s super useful for grabbing pics, but I’ve only ever been able to search for things that I already know about. So, obviously, it’s hard for me to find fresh material that no one else has already covered. My pictures might give me a leg up over the other papers, but that doesn’t matter a bit if the story’s no good,” Hatate says. “Then I remembered how you find your stories. You go out and harass people and cause incidents on your own!”

“I… I take offense to that,” Aya weakly says. “My methods are tried and true.”

“Sure, you can look at it that way, but you’re not exactly making any friends.” Hatate pulls one knee up and rests her cheek against it, smiling sideways at Aya’s dumbfounded stare. She kind of likes that expression on her— for once, Aya’s lost that ineffably smug attitude that always grates on Hatate’s nerves. “Yeah, I’ll admit it. You inspired me, Aya. But it’d be pointless if I copied you. Plus, I’m not interested in making enemies just for a cover story.”

“You went through all this… for Kakashi Spirit News? I never would’ve thought you had something like that in you.”

“Hmph, well. That’s what you get for underestimating me.” She can’t even remember why she was upset in the first place, when Aya showed up. “Yeah, my new stories might be old by the time I publish my next issue, but they’ll be stories that no one else knew about!”

Though they’re already practically pressed up together, Aya still tries to shuffle in a little closer. She leans in so close that Hatate can smell sour rice on her breath. “Since I’ve agreed that our conversation is off the record… wanna let me in on the know? C’mon, you’ve got me curious now.”

Oh, now Hatate remembers why she was upset. She doesn’t scoot away, but she does turn her nose up and away from Aya. “You would’ve found out on your own if you’d visited during the week!”

“Sorry, sorry! I told you, I was busy!” Aya pleads. “I’ll share mine if you share yours! Hey, I’ll even go first! There’s been talk of spirits from Hell planning to come up to the surface for… something. I’m not sure what, but everyone’s definitely on edge. I wanted to go investigate, but the Great Tengu strictly forbade anyone from going underground so all we can do is speculate. It’s practically a gag order, but… ah, well, it is what it is.”

Hatate lifts her head. Yachie and Saki were here only two days ago. And Megumu had definitely said things about Hell and Old Hell amidst all her stories about her romantic trysts. Hatate doubts it was intentional, but maybe Megumu had (rightfully) assumed that Hatate would do nothing with that tainted information.

“So? What kind of information did you manage to trick out of your clients?”

“Don’t be slimy, I didn’t trick anyone. Not, like, technically.” Hatate brushes her hair behind her shoulder. “I just offered a space for anyone to freely talk about whatever they want.”

“Oh, yeah? Then what about that client confidentiality you were so proud to shout about?”

“I wasn’t an official relationship counselor, remember?”

Aya’s eyes widen. Then, she throws her head back in raucous laughter. ‘Haha— ahahaha! Oh, hell! Are you really Hatate Himekaidou, or am I talking to an imposter?! Even I wouldn’t have come up with something like that!”

Hatate shudders, but she finds herself grinning along with Aya. “Ugh— I shouldn’t have said that. Now I just feel gross. Is this how you usually feel, or are you too desensitized to your own duplicity?”

She’s not like Aya. She refuses to stoop to Bunbunmaru’s level. Hatate would like to think she has more integrity than Aya; besides, she’s not so conceited to think she could get away with publishing a story about something like Sanae’s feelings for Reimu without facing some sort of consequence from Kanako and Suwako.

A speculative article about Kanako negotiating with the Great Tengu for a hiking trail made for humans, on the other hand, would surely be fair game. And a hit piece on Seija and Shinmyoumaru for plotting to burn the Tengu Village would be fun to write. Even if they didn’t reach the village, Hatate’s thoughtography can fill in the rest.

“What’s going to be your first cover story for Kakashi Spirit News’ grand return, then?” Aya asks, for once without any sarcasm or scorn.

Hatate thinks back to all the stories that had crossed her path, connections forged under the pretense of helping others. In the end, she didn’t really help anyone in the way she had hoped to, and the experience was more stressful than she’d anticipated, but everything had worked out regardless.

It wasn’t all a fluke. She really did mean to make those connections one way or another. She’d earned Kanako and Suwako’s respect, and she’s closer than ever with Seiran now, and even the Great Tengu’s sort of made her into a confidante against her will. Hatate knows far too much about Lady Iizunamaru’s personal affairs now, but that’s acknowledgment that no other tengu has. The matriarchs of the beast spirits families know who she is, too. They know her name! They know what she can do!

And Hatate knows what they can do, as well. They were wrong about the tengu getting involved with whatever’s brewing between Hell and the surface (knowing Megumu, she’s going to do everything she can to keep the tengu out of it), but Yachie and Saki had definitely come to the mountain for a reason. All Hatate needs to do is look into it with her thoughtography.

She grins at Aya. Their faces are so close together that their noses are almost touching.

“Hmm… you’ll see.”

Aya dares to wrap an arm around Hatate’s shoulders, smile brightening when Hatate doesn’t shrug her off. “I’ve never looked forward to anything more than this.”