Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Animal Realm, as with any other part of Hell, was no place for surface world dwellers. A cutthroat nightmare that prided itself on being as such, anyone foolish enough to even consider joining its society would be doomed to toil away in service of those on top while only receiving the scraps of scraps in exchange, if even that much. A true hell within Hell, one no outsider could ever hope to conquer.

But if one were to tell Flandre Scarlet this, she would simply reply, “Okay but I could do it.”

To her credit, she’d made a good case so far. Only a few hours into her infiltration of the realm and she was already storming the stronghold of one of its big shots. Just a little asking around and kicking a few asses and bam! Led right to the front door of this so-called Keiga Family’s headquarters.

She was met with resistance, naturally. “Nobody sees the boss without goin’ through us,” and all that. So she went through them. Then she went up a floor and repeated the process. Then another floor, repeated the process again. Another floor, repeated again.

By the time she finished repeating the process yet again on the fifth floor, she’d grown tired of tearing through the unimpressive underlings. Especially after some of them came back for a second round. One even came back for a third, claiming he had her “all figured out now”. He hadn’t.

Flandre got the impression these Keiga types weren’t very smart.

“And these guys are supposed to be Yuuma’s greatest adversary?” she muttered to herself as she descended the stairs back down to the fourth floor, her search on the fifth unfruitful. “Please, that’s my job.”

Thankfully, this floor had what she was looking for. It took some doing to find, no thanks to all the halls in this stupid place looking the same, and the find itself was a little disappointing. A simple door, no different from all the other doors save for a bland sign reading Saki Kurokoma, Matriarch.

Flandre shook her head, clicked her tongue. “She could at least have a fancy banner with her name in calligraphy or something. I thought yakuza were all about that stuff.”

Oh well, just another thing she’d have to fix after she took over this so-called Family. And before she could do that, she had a matriarch to overthrow.

Common courtesy dictated that Flandre need only knock on the door to make her presence known, but that was lame and boring. Hostile takeovers needed a more dramatic flare than wimpy door-knocking! Like busting the door down! The only question was how.

Hmm... Well, anyone could kick a door down. Plenty of them could blast it down, too. But none of them could destroy it the way she could. Just reach out, open her hand, take its “eye” into her palm, give it a squeeze, and...

Boom!

No more door. Just pieces of wood that used to be a door. And a knob.

Flandre grinned, arms akimbo, nodded to herself. “Yeah, now this is how you make an entrance!”

“I’ll say!”

Biting back a yelp, she whirled around to face the sudden voice, only to freeze.

Flandre had never met a woman she could call handsome. She was familiar with the concept of a handsome woman, but no more than that. The closest was either Meiling or Sakuya, and even then, they leaned far harder on the pretty side of things.

But this woman... Something about her jawline, or maybe her hair, or that steely gaze in her eyes, or the unconventional dress and hat she wore (Seriously, what style even was that?), or those boots that were clearly made for more than just walking, or those majestic wings as black as the moonless night, or all of these things put together. This woman was unequivocally, unrelentingly handsome. And she clearly knew it too. The way she stood there, arms akimbo and a self-assured grin on her face, exuded confidence.

Flandre wouldn’t say her heart skipped a beat the moment their eyes met, but she also wouldn’t say it didn’t. And she might have blushed a little. Maybe. Just a tiny bit.

But now was not the time to swoon over a handsome face, no matter how finely chiseled. Now was the time to stand her ground, assert dominance, and show this dashing lady who’s boss!

Except... For the first time in her life, Flandre found herself hesitating.

This woman... She carried herself with a certain confidence, one that made it clear at a glance she owned the place, or at least ranked pretty damn high. Not to mention her presence. She wasn’t the tallest (nearly as short as Flandre, in fact), but her broad stance and broader wingspan took up so much of the hallway that they more than made up for it. Not that Flandre found her intimidating; if anything, the idea of fighting such a woman got her heart racing.

“How did you do that?” the handsome one asked, surveying the damage. “Didn’t see you kick or shoot it or anything. Just made a fist and the door exploded.”

“I, uh...” Come on, Flandre, now’s not the time to stumble. You have a first impression to make! “I took its eye and crushed it.”

The woman said nothing, only tilted her head, brow slightly scrunched. A lack of understanding shone in her enchanting eyes. “’Eye’?”

“So, everything has an eye—uh, not like an eyeball, more a...thing? That holds it together? Or something? And I hold everything’s eyes in my hand, so...” Flandre pointed to her palm, even though she knew the woman couldn’t see them. “I just go ‘squeeze’ and the thing goes ‘boom’. Yeah.”

The woman’s expression didn’t change. She looked to where the door used to be, then back to Flandre. Eventually, she shrugged. “Don’t really get it myself, but as long as it makes sense to you!” She glanced over to the door frame again, took notice of the nameplate. “Oh, pardon my rudeness! I forgot to introduce myself. I am Saki Kurokoma, matriarch of the Keiga Family. And who might you be?”

The way the woman... The way Saki puffed out her chest as she introduced herself struck a cord with Flandre.

She puffed out her own chest. “Flandre Scarlet, vampire from the surface world and god of destruction.”

Saki’s eyes widened. “A vampire and a god?! Is that even possible?”

Flandre puffed out her chest even more. “It is if you’re me.”

True, she wasn’t a real god. But Saki didn’t need to know that.

And fortunately, Saki didn’t seem skeptical of the claim. “Well I’ll be...” Her grin widened and she extended a hand. “In that case, it’s an honor to meet you, Lady Scarlet.”

Heart fluttering a bit, Flandre took Saki’s hand into her own with a firm shake. “Just Flandre is fine.”

Saki laughed. “Doing away with formalities already, I like it! And nice grip you got there, real strong! I’m liking you already, Flandre!”

“Th-thanks, you too,” Flandre replied lamely. She realized she should say more, but hearing this handsome woman say she liked her...

Wait. No, she couldn’t get too lost in her charms. Some old advice Remi gave ages ago came to mind.

“You need to be especially careful around handsome types, Flan. They are all either conniving bastards or complete morons.”

Flandre hoped Saki was a moron.

Disengaging the handshake, Saki fixed her with a more serious look. “So. I take it you’re the one that’s been beating up my people?”

Flandre smirked. “I sure am! And I’ll warn you right now, I’ve only been holding back so far.”

“That right...” A pause, then Saki frowned. “Well, I ain’t exactly happy to see someone barging in and roughing up my Family, but considering how strong you are...” Her face lit up. “Oh, now I see! You want to join the Family! And this whole thing’s just you proving your strength ahead of time! Very smart!”

“... Huh?” What? How in the hell did she even—

Wait, no, there was a certain logic to her assumption. A pretty meatheaded logic, but the considering the tipster that pointed Flandre to Keiga’s HQ mentioned the Family valued raw strength over all else, of course their leader would assume someone barging in and beating everyone up wanted to prove themselves worthy. It was a dumb train of thought that sped over several gaping holes of logic, but if what Remi said about handsome types held true...

Flandre didn’t want to say she had a thing for stupid people, but... Something about this Saki...

“Uh, join? Um...” Come on, don’t get all awkward now. Just explain in a way even a drop-dead handsome moron can understand. “To be honest, I’m really just here to make a scene.”

Saki gave her a confused look.

“Okay, so it’s like this: I’m a god of destruction who wants to destroy the indestructible. But there’s someone down here in this Animal Realm or whatever it’s called. I got her once, but she just came back like nothing happened! Can you believe that?!"

That someone’s sharp-toothed grin flashed through Flandre’s mind, pissed her off. Enough so that she had to stop a second and calm herself. “Anyway, the point is, I want to destroy her. Once and for all. My pride as a destroyer god hinges on it. But I have no idea where to find her; nobody I’ve asked does. So I figure if I make a big enough scene with one of the big shots around here, I’ll be able to draw her out of hiding and settle things once and for all!"

Now Saki wore a thoughtful look, nodding to herself. Then she punched a fist into her open palm. “It’s that bastard Toutetsu, isn’t it?”

“So you do know her!” Maybe it was a bit silly to get this happy over having a common nemesis, but Flandre just couldn’t help herself. “Yeah, it’s Yuuma alright.”

“Well that explains everything.” Saki crossed her arms, began pacing around. “That Toutetsu’s been a real headache for as long as I can remember. We throw everything we got at her, but she just keeps coming back, none the worse for wear! Pisses me right off!"

“Yeah, yeah! You destroy her and destroy her but nothing ever sticks! I can’t stand it! I can’t stand her living on like nothing happened! If I could just get one more chance at her, I’d blow her up so hard she’d never come back!”

“For the sake of your pride as a god, yeah?”

“Exactly!” And to pay Yuuma back for that grudge match Flandre lost, but Saki didn’t need to know that.

Saki ceased her pacing. “Then it’s clear what we need to do. For your honor and the Keiga Family’s goal of ruling the Animal Realm, we must join forces. Between our raw strength and your destructive power...” She grinned. “I daresay we could drive her outta here once and for all.”

Normally, when given such an offer from a yakuza leader, one might hesitate and consider the dangers. One might consider they were falling in with a bad crowd. One might consider the possibility they were getting involved in something way bigger than they could handle.

"I’m in!”

Flandre made no such considerations.

“Perfect!” Saki laughed, clapped her hands on Flandre’s shoulders. “I knew I was right about you! Together, we’ll give those weaklings a trampling they’ll never forget! Now, if you’ll just join me in my office, we can hash out the—”

A loud noise cut her off. A growl. Not that of a wolf or any other beast, but of a stomach.

Saki stared at Flandre, stunned. “You telling me you tore through my people on an empty stomach?!” It was hard to tell if that was disbelief or awe in her voice. Maybe both.

The now blushing Flandre was suddenly very interested in the floor. It only just now occurred to her that going on her big excursion to the Animal Realm without getting a bite to eat first wasn’t the best idea.

In her defense, she wasn’t hungry at the time.

“I-I just...wanted to give myself a handicap...”

Wow, what a lame excuse. What kind of idiot would believe that?

“Ah, that makes sense.”

... The handsome kind, apparently.

“Alright,” Saki continued, “then how about this: We’ll go out, get some food, hash out the details on our alliance, and maybe” -suddenly, she wrapped an arm and a wing around Flandre’s shoulders- “just shoot the breeze a little while we’re at it?”

Whoa, whoa, hold on. Did that mean what she thought it meant? This was starting to sound like a, like a...

“Is this a strategy meeting or a dinner date?”

Saki grinned once more. “I got a good feeling about you, Flandre, and I’d hate to see you run off after we’ve taken care of business. Let’s take our time getting to know each other, alright?”

So this was how a handsome type turned on the charm... How dangerously enticing. “S-Sounds good...”

“Perfect!” They began to walk.

"Wait, what about your door?"

"Aw, don't worry, happens all the time. Even busted it myself a couple times. Say, you said you’re from the surface world, right? How’d you get here? Ain’t exactly easy to navigate Hell all by your lonesome."

“Well, basically, I called in a favor from this other god I know, and it was not easy. But if you want the full story...”

Chapter Text

“I ought to smack you.”

No sooner had Alice opened her door when Yuuka Kazami greeted her with those words. She didn’t sound especially angry, if one only went off her tone, but the smile she wore spoke more to her true feelings. Yuuka had a wide variety of smiles, each with their own particular meaning. This one meant, You messed up, missy.

Oh boy...

Alice blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“You think a half-baked apology is going to cut it? How heartless. I ought to smack you.”

"No, I mean what are you talking about?"

"Now you're telling me you forgot? How careless. I ought to smack you."

Oh, today was going to be one of those days, wasn’t it? “No, I- That- Why are you threatening violence against me all of a sudden? You never do this.”

“You dare accuse me of threatening violence? How cruel. I ought to smack you.”

That... That had to be on purpose.

“Okay, just...” Fighting the urge to sigh, Alice stepped to one side to grant Yuuka passage. “Would you like to come in? I’ll make you some tea, if you’d like.”

“Inviting someone in and offering them tea after they just threatened violence against you? How stupid. I ought to smack some sense into you.”

“... Just come in.”

Mercifully, Yuuka said nothing further and stepped inside. Alice immediately set her dolls to work preparing the tea; best not to keep her girlfriend waiting when she was in one of her moods. Something herbal should do the trick.

Yuuka wasted no time making herself comfortable on one end of the living room couch. Now her smile said, Don’t even think about sitting down with me before the tea’s ready. Which also meant no small talk until then.

But fine, that just gave Alice time to consider how best to approach this. Given Yuuka’s current mood, it would take some doing to get any kind of straight answer. It might make things easier if she could at least guess at what wrong she committed, but what could that possibly be? Alice couldn’t recall doing anything that might cause offense. She’d been visiting Reimu more often this last month, but that didn’t strike her as particularly offensive considering... well, it’s Reimu. Nobody needed to justify visiting her.

Taking the roundabout approach might work, assuming Yuuka didn’t catch on right away and dance around the subject. Which she always did.

...

Direct approach it is.

Once the tea was done some minutes later, and after mentally bracing herself, Alice brought the tea set into the living room. She made a point to regard Yuuka with a warm smile. Not quite enough to balance out the icy harshness of Yuuka’s own, unfortunately.

She also made a point to stay standing as she poured Yuuka’s tea and waited for her to take the first sip. There was an awkwardly elongated period where Yuuka simply held her cup, not doing anything, save for maintaining fierce eye contact with Alice. Said eye contact continued through her slow, dragged-out first sip. Her gaze softened a bit as the drink passed through her lips.

“Now then,” Alice said as she finally sat down on the opposite end of the couch, “I’ve tried to figure out what I did wrong, but I’m sorry, I just can’t think of anything. So if you could just tell me what—”

“You mean you’re so lacking in self-awareness you can’t see the fault in your actions? How awful. I ought to smack you.”

Any ice that may have thawed off that smile returned with a vengeance. It might have worried Alice, had she been less annoyed at such a rude interruption. “Look, I promise I’ll make it up to you, but first—”

“You think you can make it up to me when you don’t even realize what you’re doing? How pathetic. I ought to smack you.”

“Yuuka, please, this whole routine you’re doing is already old. Just cut the—”

“I bear my frustrations and you have the nerve to call it a ‘routine’? How callous. I ought to smack—”

“Would you stop interrup—”

“Oh, and now you’re even interrupting me? How rude. I ought t—”

“I ought to smack you!”

Only now did Yuuka finally relent in her verbal assault. Alice glared at her. It stayed this way for the better part of a minute, the terse silence only broken when Alice sighed, shoulders sagging.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I shouldn't mean that. I just...”

Yuuka now bore yet another smile, though this one didn’t have quite the frosty edge the others did. It was more one of satisfaction, in the way one would enjoy picking on someone they liked. “There. Now you feel a fraction of the frustration I’ve been feeling.”

“Frustration?”

So this was just her venting?

Well, it made sense. If Yuuka didn’t want to see someone, she simply didn’t show her face to them. So considering that and the fact Alice lived in the Forest of Magic, this impromptu visit was really just to smooth over this bump in the road in her own way. Her own bizarre, backwards, aggravating way.

“Yes, the frustration I’ve been feeling this last month.”

“Abo—”

“Which is your fault, by the way.”

Alice made a considerable effort to not give her a look. “Frustration about what?”

“About how you’ve neglected me for your new squeeze.”

“New sq— You mean Reimu?” Alice’s tone dropped to such a level of deadpan that it didn’t even sound like a question. “You’re mad I’m spending time with Reimu?”

At long last, Yuuka’s smile finally dropped. In its place sat a pout. Not a particularly pronounced pout, but given how rare it was, it spoke volumes nonetheless. “That’s right. You’ve been seeing her behind my back for the last month now.”

“Behind your back?” She wasn’t serious, was she? “Yuuka, we talked about this. You said you were fine with it. And besides, everyone’s hooked up with Reimu at this point. You’ve hooked up with Reimu.”

“And did I neglect you after I ‘hooked up’ with her?”

Alice opened her mouth to protest further, only to find herself at a loss for words. She didn’t have a counterargument for that. Unless...

... No, she didn’t.

“Oh...”

“’Oh’? Are you finally realizing the error of your ways?” Yuuka now wore a new smile. This one meant, Took you long enough, you heartless witch.

Alice’s first instinct was to argue. She didn’t, couldn’t, but she wanted to. Not out of pride or ego (mostly), but out of a simple contrarian compulsion. Yes, Yuuka absolutely made a good point here, but did she have to be so darn frustrating about it? Or at least not take so much poking and prodding to open up? Honestly!

But now was not the time for arguing; that had already taken up enough time as is. Besides, they hadn’t seen each other in a month. Both valued their privacy, but even so, no contact in that long?

“... I’m sorry.”

“Hmm?” Yuuka cupped an ear, leaned towards Alice. “Could you say that again, please? A little louder? You know I can’t understand you when you mumble like that.”

“You definitely heard me...” That time, Alice actually did mumble. In a clearer voice, she said, “I’m sorry for neglecting you and only spending time with Reimu.”

She wanted to explain that it was just old friends-now-girlfriends catching up. For a while, they only met up at flower viewings and the like, never had any opportunities to slip off and chat in private during the festivities. And by the time said festivities were done, Alice only ever wanted to head home and rest. Not to mention Reimu had to supervise the clean-up. Assuming she wasn’t already passed out by that point. Of course Alice would want to make up for all the lost time.

But that was just an excuse. Restrengthening an old bond didn’t justify leaving Yuuka all by her lonesome. Yes, she could always visit Reimu too, but that wasn’t the same. Yuuka loved to praise Alice for being “just as quiet and soothing as Reimu, but in a different way.” And if Yuuka went to the trouble of coming all the way out here, into a forest few so much as set foot in, there was no doubt she missed that soothing presence.

“I’m sorry,” Alice said again.

At first, Yuuka said nothing, only stared at her. She maintained her pout, only to relent and let her expression soften before long. “As long as you understand,” she said softly. “I’ll forgive you this time, just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t, promise.”

“Good. Now then...”

First Yuuka set her tea down on the coffee table. Then she scooched over to the middle cushion. And then, without warning, she practically threw herself on top of Alice, snuggling in and nestling her head into the crook of Alice’s chin.

Ah, typical Yuuka.

Smiling to herself, Alice adjusted a little to get into a more comfortable position, laying across the couch’s length. One hand rose to pet Yuuka’s head, while the other came to rest on her back.

Yuuka sighed, her pout now long gone. She didn’t smile, but the contentment on her face was clear as day.

They savored the quiet for a while. The tea lay forgotten. The world beyond the house’s walls ceased to matter.

Until Yuuka broke the silence. “Do you think Reimu would be jealous if she saw us like this?”

Alice opened her eyes, mouth drawing into a thin line. “Why? Would you want her to join us?”

“No.”

Ah, typical Yuuka.

A stifled giggle. “I doubt she would be. You know Reimu, always popular with the ladies. I’m sure she’s surrounded by a whole bunch of them right now.”

Reimu sneezed. “Ugh...”

“Gesundheit.” Sakuya offered a handkerchief she wasn’t holding a second ago, which Reimu accepted with a word of thanks and blew into it.

“You’ve been sneezing quite a bit today,” said Sanae as she hugged Reimu from behind. “Is it seasonal allergies?”

“No, I don’t really get those,” Reimu replied with a sniffle. “Maybe it’s just dusty in here.”

“Or maybe someone’s talking about you.” Yukari, languidly leaning out of her gap, brought a hand up to muss Reimu’s hair. “A broken heart cursing your name for spending time with everyone except them.”

Reimu pushed the hand away. “If they want to see me so bad, they can just come over.”

“Maybe your entourage intimidates them,” Remilia said, turning her head to look up from her spot on Reimu’s lap.

“Yeah, right.” Reimu glanced around her living area. So many of her girlfriends here, all of them oh so coincidentally wanting to see her at the same time. “Well, it does get cramped when it’s all of you at once.”

Not that Reimu minded these sorts of get-togethers; she never would’ve lasted as shrine maiden if she couldn’t handle large gatherings. Plus, it was nice to have a bunch of people come together and dote on her for a little while.

But still, a little one-on-one time didn’t hurt either. Especially with the more relaxing types, like Alice.

Or Yuuka who, come to think of it, hadn’t paid a visit in the last couple months. Maybe it was time to pay her a visit instead, maybe even give her a hard time about it...

Chapter Text

Punishment. The only fitting word for it.

For the crime of fraternizing on the clock, Momiji Inubashiri was sentenced to serve out today’s duty at the absolute worst post on Youkai Mountain. Which was saying something, considering how many posts were strong contenders for that title.

It was an outcropping down near the bottom of the mountain, right next to the biggest, loudest waterfall. It roared in your ears and left you unable to hear anything that didn’t come up and whisper right in your ear. Add the fact it faced away from the human village—not to mention any other part of Gensokyo considered habitable—and didn't even rise above the trees of an especially territorial yamanba's sanctuary and you were left with a completely useless vantage point. Nobody manned this position. Nobody wanted to man this position. And unless they were caught committing some infraction or other, nobody did.

And here stood... Well, here sat Momiji, forced to keep watch at that very post for that very reason.

She would have grumbled about this, but considering talking got her stuck here in the first place, all she could do was stew in her own impotent frustration in silence.

Well, she was silent. The waterfall was not.

In fairness, engaging in idle banter while you were supposed to keep watch did run the risk of letting intruders slip by unnoticed. In frankness, they rarely needed to worry about those, especially when outsiders almost never had a reason to brave the mountain. Not to mention Momiji’s normal post was one of the least travel-friendly paths up the mountain. Who in Gensokyo would be insane enough to so much as attempt scaling a waterfall? Besides the Hakurei and that one lunatic human.

But, well, so be it. Not the first time she had to serve out this sentence, nor would it be the last. And honestly, it wasn’t all that different from her usual duty.

Although, this being a punishment inspired a certain longing in her. One that, if fulfilled, would defeat the entire purpose of her being here. Call it spite, or contrarianism, or whatever else might fit. She just wanted to spend time with—

Wait.

Her ear twitched. Was that a voice she heard? It was hard to make out over the waterfall, but...

Yes, it was. A distant voice called out from afar, growing closer and more distinct. Considering nobody willing came here, that could only be one person.

“...iii... ...eeyyyy... ...ooomiii... ...ou hear me? Heeeyyy, Momiii!”

Momiji allowed herself a faint smile.

She didn’t turn to watch Hatate land on the far end of the outcropping; best not to take any chances right now. Depending on who was keeping tabs on her this time, so much as eye contact would earn her a write-up.

But, well, this much was tolerable. They could work around it.

“Hey, Momi!” Hatate had to shout to make herself heard. “Heard you got in trouble again and thought you could use the company!”

She most certainly could. Ah, what a blessing to have such a thoughtful lover.

“It’s so dumb, though!” Hatate closed the distance to Momiji’s side. She plopped herself down. In her normal speaking volume, she continued, “Some wackos infiltrate the mountain through your spot one time and now you gotta put in, like, all the effort all the time. How do you put up with it?

Momiji just gave a light shrug.

“Is it hard, trying to look busy when you got nothing to do all day?”

Another shrug.

“I mean, what do you even do? Do you just, like...think about stuff?”

A subtle tilt of the head, wordlessly ask, “Like what?”

Even without looking, Momiji knew Hatate was smirking as she replied, “Like me.”

Which elicited a smirk of her own.

Hatate giggled. “Thought so~”

From there, it became their usual routine. Hatate talked while Momiji listened and made the occasional responsive gesture where appropriate. No talking back or large movements or even just turning her head, but anything less than all that was fair game. It took a few punishments for them to figure out these boundaries, but such was just the way of things.

Momiji suspected she could get away with this much because while anyone with eyes could see her gestures were meant as replies to whatever Hatate was saying, it was hard to write her up for it. Nobody could stay absolutely still for eight or so hours, and if she just so happened to move in reaction to something someone said, who could blame her? Not whoever the higher-ups enlisted to keep an eye on her, if her previous punishments were anything to go by.

“... and it’s like, how do you even keep tabs on that kinda stuff, y’know? Oh yeah, speaking of keeping tabs, you read today’s Bunbunmaru?”

Momiji grunted, the low noise drowned out by the waterfall. Of course she hadn’t read today’s Bunbunmaru. She hadn’t read any day’s Bunbunmaru. She didn’t have a subscription, and any free issues or extras Shameimaru inflicted upon her doorstep went straight to the compost heap.

“Right, dumb question. You’re not missing much anyways. It’s just the usual: Interesting stuff ruined with the ‘usual Shameimaru flair.’” Hatate made a noise of disgust. “Hate her so much... Did you know I ran into her the other day? Yeah, I was just out and about, minding my own business, and then she comes along and starts nitpicking my articles for no reason!”

Probably not exactly how it went down. For one, Hatate was too much of a homebody to be just out and about. For another, she tended to instigate their arguments far more often than Shameimaru. Then again, one could argue the latter’s obnoxious behavior was instigation in its own right. Momiji certainly did. And had earned herself a few write-ups as a consequence.

In her defense, Shameimaru had an impressively punchable face.

“And then we started getting into it, and I mean like, really getting into it, and... Ugh, you know those times you can’t think of a good comeback ‘til after it’s over? Frustrating, right? Anyways, that happened to me and I was kinda pissed about it at first, but then I was like, ‘Wait, I can totally save this for next time.’ And I totally am going to save it for next time, ‘cause it’s sooo good. Wanna hear it?”

Momiji smirked. A rhetorical question. The eagerness to share was clear in Hatate’s voice, and given their relationship was partially built off their mutual disdain for Shameimaru’s nonsense, of course she would want to hear it.

Hatate snickered. “Thought so. Okay, so. Y’know how some people say a shitty newspaper is only good for, like, toilet paper and stuff? Well, you can’t even say that about Shameimaru’s paper. Know why?”

And then Hatate leaned in closer. Much closer. Close enough that she just barely came short of contact, her breath tickling Momiji’s ear.

It took considerable effort not to squirm. Bad enough her ears were sensitive, but doing this out in the open always put her on edge. It made her toes curl. Her tail twitched out of a desperate need to thrash about, ever the slave to instincts no amount of self-restraint could completely quash.

The waterfall sounded so distant now, a meager white noise backing a breathless giggle from Hatate. A pause, then...

“Because it’s already covered in shit.”

Another giggle as Hatate pulled back. She went silent, waited for Momiji to process what she had just heard.

It was...a decent punchline. Fairly predictable, not to mention crass, but decent. It would serve its purpose well enough.

But something about the delivery or timing or some other factor left Momiji holding back laughter, little chortles slipping through the cracks, her shoulders shaking.

“Knew you’d like it~” Hatate sounded quite pleased with herself. “You just know she’ll be all, ‘I’ll have you know my articles are clean and pure and honest and blah blah blah.’ Like she totally won’t be seething inside.”

At that, she got up and stretched. “Welp, that’s all I got for this time. Wish I could stick around longer, but I don’t wanna get you in even bigger trouble, you know? I’d say I hope they let you off early on good behavior, but... Well, you know.”

Momiji smiled. Much as she would have preferred they could spend the whole day together, she had to spend a whole week at this post the last time they tried that. This much was enough to get her through the rest of the day anyway.

The sound of wings unfurling, followed by a couple flaps to shake out the stiffness.

“Alright, Momi, hope you... Wait, before I forget.”

Then Hatate leaned down, breath again teasing Momiji’s ear.

“Swing by my place tonight so I can really make it up to you, ‘kay? See you then~”

And with that, she took off, leaving a flustered Momiji to fight a losing battle against a rising blush.

Momiji sucked in a breath through her teeth, hands gripping tightly on her knees. Ow, sharp claws. Should not have done that.

She sighed, rubbed where she pricked her skin. Honestly...

Still, she couldn’t help but smile.

Chapter Text

Eientei didn’t need much guarding. Not much more than it already had. Between the natural protection the Bamboo Forest of the Lost provided and the Earth rabbits’ assistance, any wayward soul would be led away before they could so much as catch a glimpse of the place.

Even so, Reisen took it upon herself to patrol the perimeter every night. That way, in the unlikely event someone did somehow manage to find their way here, she’d serve as a last line of defense. And it gave her something to do beyond the menial tasks around the place, which she appreciated. As long as it kept her feet moving.

Kept her feeling useful.

She might’ve felt more useful if she could patrol just a little further out, but both the princess and Lady Yagokoro made it abundantly clear that ran too many risks. So here she stayed, walking laps around her new home that, in many ways, felt no different from the old one.

It had plenty of differences, though. For one, natural sunlight. It was taking some getting used to, but she kind of liked it. Something about it just felt…more right than the artificial lights back on the Lunar Capital. Although it was best enjoyed in short bursts, as a nasty sunburn had taught her not too long ago.

For another... Well...

It felt weird, looking up at her old home. Looming, always there, only ever hidden from sight during the day and certain nights. Strange to think a giant rock that housed such a stagnant, unchanging place as the Capital was itself ever changing, at least from this perspective. Full one night, gone another, only half gone another still, barely a sliver tonight.

“Why is it like that again?” Reisen thought aloud. Presently, she sat on a veranda located at Eientei’s rear, resting her feet for a bit. “I think Lady Yagokoro said it has something to do with its position relative to the sun and Earth... That’s right, Earth sometimes blocks the sunlight, and how much it blocks affects how much of the Moon is visible from down here. And since there’s only a tiny bit showing tonight, that means it’s mostly blocked. So we’re barely getting any moonlight.”

Which was a shame. She liked the sunlight, but loved the moonlight much more. And not just because of the lack of sunburn.

No, moonlight was just easier to acclimate to. Still a far cry from the lights in the Capital and Eientei, but something about it was relaxing. Ironic, considering its source was anything but.

“But it’s not the source, technically. It’s just bouncing the sun’s light down to us, and that changes its quality. She used a certain word for it. What was it again? I think it started with an ‘A’. A... Ar... Al...”

“Albedo."

Reisen startled, jumped to her feet and about-faced to the sudden voice.

“L-Lady Yagokoro! Good evening! And apologies for shirking my duty!” She bowed, maybe a bit more than necessary.

“You’ve nothing of the sort, Reisen. If anything, it would be preferable for you to stay inside.”

“I-I know, ma’am, but...”

She knew Lady Yagokoro was right, as always. Acting as a last line of defense inside Eientei would prove far more beneficial than her walking laps outside. She knew that, but...

“You want to spend more time outside.”

Reisen straightened up, gave a guilty look. She wanted to say something, even if it was just a verbal affirmation, but the embarrassment of being read so easily stilled her tongue.

Lady Yagokoro regarded her with a reassuring smile. It was polite and practiced, but it at least told Reisen she wasn’t in trouble.

Not to mention it gave her an odd feeling...

She never met the storied Brain of the Moon while she still lived there; a lowly peon like herself had no business meeting her former masters’ private tutor. Because of that, her only impressions of Lady Yagokoro were rumors from other rabbits who had also never met her but claimed to know someone who knew someone who had. Rumors of how intimidating she was, or how beautiful she was.

Both sets of rumors turned out to be true, but failed to communicate how the two qualities intersected. Whether Lady Yagokoro’s beauty made her intimidating or her intimidation made her beautiful (the latter of which Reisen somehow intuited but didn't understand), it was hard to say. It would probably be more accurate to say the two qualities created a feedback loop.

Regardless of the semantics, her mere presence typically left Reisen’s face at a loss between breaking out in a hot blush or a cold sweat. Thankfully, tonight was an increasingly common scenario where neither of these things happened.

“I understand how you feel,” Lady Yagokoro said, “but we can’t risk leaving ourselves exposed.”

Reisen’s face fell, and she nodded glumly. “Yes, ma’am, I understand. Just...”

“I’m not saying you can’t step outside at all, but I am saying you need to be more careful about these things.”

In other words, minimize her time outside and don’t go too far out. Not that much different from her old home.

“By the way, you’re a bit mistaken in the terminology.”

The abrupt change in topic snapped Reisen out of her thoughts. “Huh?”

Lady Yagokoro sat down on the veranda. “Albedo is the measure for how much sunlight is reflected off of a celestial body. Due to the nature of its surface, the Moon only reflects a portion of the sunlight that hits it. As for the other ways the light changes upon reflection...”

“Oh, that’s right, it’s because of the wavelengths of whatever light gets reflected instead of absorbed.” Reisen lightly smacked her palm upside her forehead. “Can’t believe I forgot that; wavelengths are supposed to be my whole thing...”

Lady Yagokoro chuckled. It was hard to tell if it was at Reisen’s expense or not. “Conflating new terminology with what you already know isn’t that uncommon a mistake,” she said. “And albedo isn’t exactly vital information, though I would prefer you remember the things I tell you."

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am. I promise I’m trying.”

She nodded, looked up at the Moon in silence for a moment before glancing at Reisen. “Would you like to sit down?”

The sudden question caught Reisen off-guard. “H-Huh? Uh... Sure, with your permission.”

“Go ahead. You don’t need permission to sit with me, if you want to.”

... What?

Sit with her?

With the Eirin Yagokoro?

No permission needed?

She could just...do that?

Reisen managed a bewildered “Alright!” and promptly sat herself down before she could give her brain a chance to overthink it. While giving Lady Yagokoro her due personal space, of course.

“There, isn’t that better?” Maybe it was Reisen’s imagination, but she swore she could detect a note of amusement in Lady Yagokoro’s tone. “Since you were resting your legs earlier.”

“A-Ah, yes. Thank you, ma’am. Very much.”

She did things like this sometimes, these weird little bits of consideration. They almost made Reisen feel like they could stand on equal footing at times. Though it was probably just her nurse-like nature at play.

Then Lady Yagokoro turned to Reisen, expression thoughtful. “Your mentioning wavelengths reminded me: You said you’re able to see the wavelengths living beings emit, correct? What do they represent?"

Whoa, what’s this? The Brain of the Moon asking to have something explained to her? Like it was something she didn’t already know? And Reisen, of all people, got to do it?

“Um...” She cleared her throat, composed herself. “Basically, a person’s wavelengths represent their personality. You know, their temperament and stuff. There’s a whole bunch of nuances to them, but the oversimplified version is shorter wavelengths tend to represent rougher personalities while longer wavelengths represent more level-headed ones. There are also things like patterns and fluctuations based on mood and... Yeah.”

Ugh, what a lame finish to an explanation.

Fortunately, Lady Yagokoro didn’t seem to mind. She nodded, then asked, “And what about mine?”

“Y-Yours?” Suddenly, Reisen felt like prey staring down a predator posing a trick question that would guarantee her demise if she answered poorly. “Th-They’re, um... Your wavelengths are...long. Overall.”

“’Overall’?”

Crap! Why did she add that last bit?! That was just begging to demand elaboration and—

“That’s interesting to hear. And you said they adjust depending on a person’s mood?”

... Okay, whew. “Yeah, a little bit. The length doesn’t change—like, long wavelengths don’t become short if someone’s mad. Shifts in mood affect amplitude, and the more intense the emotion, the more radical the changes.”

“Are there factors that can affect the length?”

Oh no, she could see where this was going. “I...think so...” She quickly added, “But I’ve never been able to pin down what those factors are. The only thing I’m sure of is... Actually, I’m not sure. But I do think a change in the length represents a change in the person as, um...a person.”

Lady Yagokoro nodded thoughtfully, saying nothing. She looked out towards the Bamboo Forest.

In this momentary pause, Reisen saw an opportunity to escape. Just had to make a rushed excuse about remembering something she needed to do and bolting before Lady Yagokoro could stop her. Sure, she’d have to face the consequences for that later, but that would be future Reisen’s problem. Just have to stand up, say something, and—

“You said my wavelengths are long ‘overall’, correct?”

Damn...

She didn’t think an honest answer would get her in trouble, per se, but...

Oh, whatever. If Lady Yagokoro wanted to know, then Reisen couldn’t refuse. “Yes, I did.”

"But there are times where they shorten?"

"Yes, ma'am."

“When does that happen? Can you think of a common trigger?”

“A...trigger for their shortening?”

“Yes. What is it?”

Reisen flinched a bit at the insistence. “It’s...” She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, bit her lip. “It only ever happens when you’re talking with the princess.” In a softer voice she added, “And me.”

“It does?”

... Wait...

Was that...genuine surprise in Lady Yagokoro’s voice?

Reisen turned to find, on that immaculate face which always showed no emotion or weakness, a genuine look of surprise.

She tried to respond, but her words caught in her throat.

“What does it mean?”

Did she have to lean in closer to ask that? To have such beautiful eyes piercing through Reisen as so close a range... Ah, her poor heart, it couldn’t calm down...

A noise akin to an “Uh” escaped her lips as words failed to form.

A few more tries later, she managed something. “I mean, far be it from me to claim I know how you feel about others better than you do, but... Um...” How best to phrase this? “I can only assume something about how you feel about us is, is...inspiring some kind of change in you. I think. Maybe. I don’t know what kind.”

Lady Yagokoro said nothing. She only stared. Whether it was through Reisen or past her was too hard to tell.

Eventually, she looked away again, now gazing up at the moon. Her lips parted as though she intended to say something, but no words left them.

A thought occurred, prompting Reisen to check her wavelengths. They thrummed long and firm, as they always did, but less so than the norm. Slightly shorter, the peaks and troughs just the tiniest bit more pronounced. Guessing at what sparked this shift proved fruitless, as Lady Yagokoro’s expression betrayed no hints of whatever was on her mind.

It bothered Reisen to see those beautiful wavelengths disturbed in such a way, and yet a small part of her couldn’t help but wonder, in a small bout of egotistic hope, that she had influenced that change. As if even a lowly rabbit like her could have some impact, however small, on the much-storied Brain of the Moon.

In times like these, Eirin Yagokoro began to feel like...almost a normal person.

“Reisen?”

“Hyes?!” Reisen didn’t so much snap to attention as she did jolt to it.

Lady Yagokoro turned that thoughtful gaze to her. “Do you think change has a place in eternity?”

Whoa, whoa, what? Why the philosophical question all of a sudden? How was she supposed to answer that?!

“Um... Sorry, I don’t understand the question. What’s supposed to change?”

“Not what, who.”

Reisen blinked. “’Who’?” She parroted.

“Yes, who. Can a person trapped in eternity still change?”

“Trapped in...” She searched Lady Yagokoro’s eyes for an explanation, shook her head when she found none. “What do you mean? Are you talking about, uh... Like, in the princess’s spell of eternity?”

To her surprise, Lady Yagokoro smiled. It wasn’t the usual polite one she wore; this seemed more...pleased. “Yes, that’s exactly it.”

Wait...

Wait, really? She guessed it right? She managed to, for a brief instant, follow the same wavelength as the smartest person the Lunar Capital ever had?

“You already know how our princess’s ability works,” Lady Yagokoro continued, “so I don’t need to remind you what it means for us.”

Right. Princess Kaguya Houraisan’s spell of eternity basically insured they would live life as close to how they did on the Lunar Capital as they could. Protection from Earth’s impurity, all while no one and no thing living within Eientei’s walls would be touched by time. Nothing could decay. Nothing could grow. Nothing could change.

At least, not externally.

But did that mean no one could change internally?

Or...

“I think so.”

It was just the first answer that came to mind. An impulse. But, as the words lingered and Reisen considered what she just said, she found herself agreeing with it. Time at Eientei may be in stasis, but as long as they could still move, think, act... As long as they could still be people, change could be possible. Lady Yagokoro’s wavelengths could attest to that.

“But why do you ask?” A flash of self-consciousness hit Reisen. “Uh, i-if you don’t mind my asking, that is.”

To her relief, Lady Yagokoro’s smile remained. “It’s fine, Reisen. I don’t mind.” Then she sighed, looked thoughtful again. “To be honest, I’m not entirely sure why I felt compelled to ask that. I suppose your comment about my wavelengths just...struck a chord with me.”

Reisen forced a laugh, rubbed an arm. “It is kind of weird, isn’t it? Somebody saying there’s this invisible part of you only they can see and now they’re suddenly telling you it’s changing and...” She hung her head. “I-I’m sorry...”

“What for?”

“I don’t know. Just...” She trailed off, unable to find an answer. Or an answer that didn't amount to her just defaulting to groveling at an authority figure's feet as a defense mechanism.

“You don’t need to apologize for that.”

“... I don’t?”

“You don’t,” Lady Yagokoro’s tone was gentle. Gentler than Reisen had ever heard from her. “You offer a unique perspective, Reisen.”

Reisen dared to raise her head and met her lady’s gaze. “I do?”

“You do. I never had many opportunities to speak with the Moon rabbits back ho—back at the Capital. And the few I did talk to, I never had a chance to speak with them the way I can now with you.”

This revelation, dropped so casually, nearly sent Reisen’s mind whirling. Out of all the Moon rabbits to exist, out of all of them that could ever work up the courage to run away, to find Lady Yagokoro... Her.

And—maybe it was just her imagination, but—why did it almost feel like Lady Yagokoro was, almost, maybe...

Treating her like an equal?

... No, no, that’s ridiculous.

But...

Maybe...

Lady Yagokoro continued, “I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that we work to keep life here as close to what it is in the Capital as we can. And while it is close in some respects, it’s a far cry in many others. And I think those differences, even with the spell of eternity in place, can inspire some degree of change. Though really, it would be more accurate to say they necessitate it. Exactly what those changes are or to what extent they will go I can’t say, but...”

She paused. Her smile changed a bit, but what it was meant to express went over Reisen’s head.

“Thanks to you, I can confirm they have already begun.”

And with that, she stood and turned to head inside. “Don’t stay out too late. There’s more work ahead of us tomorrow.”

She didn’t bother waiting for Reisen’s reply and left her to her thoughts.

Not that Reisen had a reply. Said thoughts weren’t the most coherent, as they mostly went around in circles and amounted to asking “What did she mean by that?” over and over again.

Eventually, she let out a heavy sigh and lay down on her back, looking up at the starry night sky.

Her gaze settled on the moon. Only a tiny sliver visible on its right side, not even a crescent. Not yet. But soon it would be.

“Already begun, huh...?”

If things could change, if they already were changing, then maybe...

It was a silly thing to consider, let alone hope for, and she had no idea why she did, but maybe...

“Oh, one more thing.”

Reisen bolted up so fast she nearly threw herself off the veranda, only just saving herself by grabbing the edge. “Y-Yeah?"

Lady Yagokoro regarded her with an amused smile. “Since you’re living a new life away from your former masters, I thought maybe you might like a new name.”

A new name? And with it, a new lease on life...

Maybe they could grow a little closer.

Chapter Text

Yuuma snapped awake. Her head throbbed, suddenly hurting. With a delayed yelp of pain, she rubbed the affected area.

“A’right, who’s the wise guy?!” she snarled. “Hope you know what you’re in fooooooh, hey Reimu, what brings you here?”

“That’s my line!”

Reimu stood before her, holding her gohei and pointing it threateningly. The peeved look on her face warned against trying any funny business.

“What do you think you’re doing here, sleeping on my stairs like that?!” she demanded. “Don’t tell me you’re up to something again!”

One hand still nursing her head, Yuuma held up the other in a placating manner. “I’m not, relax. I was just paying Flan a visit and figured since I’m here and all, why not go see you too?”

“Why?”

“’Cause I wanted to.”

Reimu didn’t move, her expression didn’t change, but the air about her shifted in a subtle way that suggested she was considering being just a tiny bit less wary.

Then her eyes narrowed. “Is this about last time?”

“Oh, you remember. Good. Now I don’t have to explain.” Yuuma stood and stretched. “Yeah, figured I might as well follow up on our little chat while I’m still here.”

Reimu watched, still with some wariness, but she lowered her gohei the slightest amount. “What’s there to follow up on?”

“Not sure myself, to be honest. All I can tell you’s I’ve been thinking about our last talk on ‘n off and...” Yuuma shrugged. “I dunno, I guess I just want another one.”

She knew this was weird of her, and she knew Reimu knew too. Considering all that loner and not-the-sharing-type talk last time, how could she not?

Still, for her to keep dwelling on this two weeks out had to mean something. Hell, she even kept bringing it up to Flandre, who got so sick of hearing about it she suggested that Yuuma “go hook up with her already if you want to see her again so badly.” Exact words and everything.

That phrasing bothered Yuuma.

Reimu lowered her gohei just the tiniest bit more. “You promise not to cause any trouble?”

“On my honor as head of the Gouyoku Alliance.”

“That doesn’t sound like a whole lot.”

“Watch it, punk.”

Yuuma stood and stretched as Reimu moved past her to the top of the stairs. “Really, I’m not here to ruin your day,” she said. “I mean it when I say I just wanna talk. And it’s strictly personal business, promise.”

“Good,” Reimu huffed. “The last thing I want is you breaking your promise to leave the—”

“Leave the surface world alone while you’re alive, I know. Don’t worry, I’m not a promise-breaker; that’s Yachie’s thing.”

Reimu muttered something under her breath, probably more skepticism. Not that Yuuma could blame her, considering, but would it kill her to show a little benefit of the doubt?

... Actually, that probably would get her killed back in the Animal Realm, so maybe it was for the best.

But never mind that, how was she gonna break the ice…?

Her gaze drifted to the torii gate and inspiration struck. “So there’s an etiquette to this shrine stuff, right? How’s that go again?”

Reimu blinked. “Huh? You mean for shrine visits? Why? You didn’t bother last time.”

Yuuma smirked. “In my experience, getting on someone’s good side makes ‘em more cooperative.”

Reimu’s mouth opened, then shut, then open again, then shut again. Then she stared, long and hard, and looked for all the world as if she’d heard the most baffling thing ever.

The sight of that face brought a certain word to mind. Yuuma ignored it.

“Uh...” Reimu collected enough of herself to form words. “W-Well, first, you need to bow to the gate.”

Yuuma did just that. A small and quick bow, but enough to be recognizable as such. “’Kay. Now what?”

More bafflement, followed by another round of self-collecting. “Well, now you just got to walk through... Uh, but not through the center! That’s reserved for the gods!”

“Aw c’mon, why do gods get to hog all the best parts...”

But despite her grumbling, Yuuma did as directed. She walked as close to the center as she figured Reimu would allow; if she couldn’t step on the gods’ turf, she could at least be petty about it.

Then she turned again to Reimu, who followed her through at a more respectful distance from the center. “That it?”

“No, next is the purification.” Reimu pointed to a small fountain just off the stone path. “Take a ladle in your right hand and fill it with water, pour a little on your left, then switch hands and do it the other way around, put it back in your right but this time pour a little water into your left and rinse your mouth and spit it out—do not drink straight from the ladle and don’t spit it back into the fountain or we will have a problem. After that, you just have to hold the ladle up so the remaining water washes it off and then you’re done.”

Yuuma grunted. “Sounds like a hassle.”

“Hey, you wanted to do this, so just...do it.”

“I will, I will, I’m just saying...”

As she stepped over to the fountain, Yuuma wondered why everyone had to bother with this rigamarole. Well, youkai probably didn’t for obvious reasons, but human visitors did. And for what, purification? What did that even mean? This spiritual junk was not for her.

Though she had to admit, this water was nice and cool. And the taste...

Yuuma could understand the sentiments of anything she ingested. Even something as basic and essential to life as water had something deeper to it. For example, water in the Animal Realm would take on the greedy sentiments of whichever company’s filtration system it ran through. So it stood to reason she could pick up whatever essence this shrine had. And she could, but...

Even without ingesting this water, it... It hit her in a way few things ever had. It wasn’t strong, or aggressive, or even insistent. If Yuuma had to put a word on it, it would be... Passive. Or maybe, more accurately...

Accepting.

Yeah, that was the better word. Accepting. The water accepted whoever took it, even a youkai like her. And considering she felt that sentiment this strongly without even swallowing, it must be pretty deep-rooted. Like this was a sentiment carried by every shrine maiden to ever live here.

Did the shrine take after the maiden, or the other way around...?

Well, either way.

She held the ladle vertically, watched the remaining water trickle down the handle. It occurred to her that, while the spiritual aspect of this probably had some legitimacy, there was a practical reasoning to it too. Washing off the ladles like this kept them clean so Reimu didn’t have to bother doing it herself. Not to give her too much credit; no way she came up with this. But still.

After setting the ladle down, Yuuma turned to see Reimu taking a broom from a face she only vaguely remembered seeing last time. A komainu, right? Gave Yachie some trouble, apparently.

Said komainu met her gaze with a wary look. Yuuma flashed her a grin, showing her sharp teeth. No reaction.

The impromptu staring contest lasted another moment or so before the komainu finally headed back towards the shrine, though not without sparing another two glances over her shoulder before slipping out of sight behind the main building.

Yuuma shook her head, then turned to Reimu. “A’right, that’s done. We good now?”

Reimu gave her an odd look, then her face lit up. “Well,” she said with an off-putting amount of exuberance, “as a matter of fact, there is an etiquette to follow for making offerings too! See, first you need to—”

“No.”

Her face fell a bit. “But—”

“No. Don’t push your luck.”

Yuuma did a lot of things. Charity wasn’t one of them.

Pouting, Reimu uttered a “Fine,” then turned her back on Yuuma and began sweeping. “Should have known better than to expect anything from you,” she groused loudly, clearly wanting Yuuma to hear.

It made Yuuma snicker. “What, you seriously thought a youkai was gonna donate to a youkai hunter’s shrine?”

“Hey, you’re the one who asked about shrine etiquette! What kind of weirdo youkai actually does that stuff anyway?” Suddenly, Reimu stopped her sweeping, turned to Yuuma. “Wait, you’re just making fun of me, aren’t you?!”

Yuuma held up her hands defensively. “I’m not, I promise. Like I said, I just wanna get on your good side.”

Reimu’s eyes narrowed. “Is that really your only reason?”

Yeah, figures she wouldn’t buy it. “Well, ya got me there. I’m not lying about getting on your good side, but you’re right, it’s not the only reason.”

She gestured toward the main shrine building. “All places take after the folks who use ‘em, so if I can get a taste of it somehow, I can understand those folks a little better. I don’t know much about shrines, but I do know they got fountains, so if I could just get a sip from yours...”

Realization flickered in Reimu’s eyes. “You could understand me?”

“Yup. And I gotta say, Reimu, you got some interesting sentiments lingering about.”

No response, save for an expression that could only be described as weirded out. Reimu looked away as if she were searching for some kind of retort. Judging by her face, she wasn’t having much luck.

Which was probably why she eventually shrugged and said, “Whatever,” before going back to her sweeping.

Yuuma couldn’t help but snort at that. “What, not gonna ask about it?”

“Nope.”

“Not even a little bit curious? Not to brag too much, but I can give some pretty spot-on assessments, shine a little light on a part of you ya never noticed.”

“No thanks.” Reimu’s tone was firm. “I know who I am and I don’t need to hear it from anyone else. Including you.”

It wasn’t the rejection that surprised Yuuma. Plenty of others she’d pulled this on reacted the same way. At first. But they always caved in with enough prodding, especially when she pulled away after their defenses began to crack. The biggest tell was the defensiveness in their voices; the way they said no might sound full of conviction to them, but Yuuma always detected a faint hint of uncertainty.

But Reimu’s rejection wasn’t like the others’. There was no defensiveness, no hints at any openings to exploit. Her conviction was the genuine article. Like she really did know who she was and didn’t need a second opinion. Even though she probably did—everyone did. But...

And this wasn’t something like Saki’s brash confidence, the kind only sheer stupidity could achieve. No, this was less someone too stubborn to give up ground on anything and more the kind that…
The kind that only someone who took everything at face value could have. Someone who could accept anything thrown at them.

Maybe even anyone. Maybe even...

Yuuma shook her head. What a dumb thing to consider. They’d already talked about it last time; Reimu wanted nothing to do with her. Well, with her group, anyway. So why even bother?

Setting the odd thoughts aside, she noticed Reimu had taken the extended silence as a sign the conversation was over and resumed sweeping. Which was weird, considering the shrine grounds looked plenty clean already.

Actually, the more Yuuma watched, the more something about Reimu’s technique seemed...off. The sweeps looked fine enough at a glance, but they took too long on one spot and then move on to an unrelated spot. The grounds would never be cleaned with that approach, but that was only a problem if they actually needed cleaning. Which they didn’t.

And that’s when it hit her.

“Heh.”

Reimu stopped and cast a questioning look.

“You’re faking it.”

She flinched. “I—”

“No need to explain, I know exactly what you’re doing. I see it all the time back home.”

“Wh—uh...” Reimu’s eyes darted around. “Doing what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, it’s obvious you’re just trying to look busy. Got nothing to do but you can't do nothing, so you might as well pretend to look busy. Put in just enough effort to look like you’re doing something without actually doing anything. It’s a good survival tactic.”

Reimu opened her mouth only for whatever protest she had to die in her throat. She blinked, her brow furrowing. “You think it’s good?”

“Yeah. If I had to describe the Animal Realm’s work culture, it’d be ‘very productivity-oriented.’ Either you’re working your ass off every second of the day or you’re slacking off. And that’s a problem ‘cause even spirits need downtime. Better you just fake it when you don’t need to put in all the effort, that way you got the energy when you need it. Glad to see you understand that.”

Yuuma couldn’t help but smirk at the look on Reimu’s face. It was the exact same wide-eyed, slack-jawed face everyone else made when they were so sure they were in trouble only to get blindsided by praise. Amused her every time.

Also brought a certain word to mind again. She forced it down.

“I’m not doing it to be lazy!” Reimu protested. “It’s just, stuff happens all the time and...”

“I get ya. In your line of work, you need to be ready for whatever whenever and it takes a lot outta you when stuff happens, so you gotta save your strength until you really need it. I know how it is; I do the same thing.

“Y’know, it’s always bugged me how folks define diligence by the amount of work you put in. If you ask me, it should be defined by how good your work is. Quality over quantity. I know that sounds weird coming from me, ‘cause I love quantity, but if I had to pick between a lot of okay stuff and a little good stuff...”

“You’d take both?”

Yuuma smirked. “Yup. But, if I could only pick one, I’d go for the good stuff. And it’s the same for putting in effort. I’ve always believed in ‘work smarter, not harder,’ and everything I’ve learned about you tells me you’re the same way. So I don’t think you’re lazy. In fact, I’m willing to bet you’re pretty diligent.”

She let the words hang in the air, gauged Reimu’s reaction.

It didn’t surprise her to see Reimu go quiet after a comment like that. Considering everything else that’d already been said, she fully expected her to be wary of any compliments. Wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume any buttering up at play. Wouldn’t be unreasonable to go quiet over someone claiming being lazy is actually diligent. Hell, Yuuma expected it.

What she didn’t expect was a slight but noticeable tint of pink coloring Reimu’s cheeks.

She didn’t know why that stuck out to her; folks blushed all the time for all kinds of reasons. Getting embarrassed over a compliment wasn’t new. So why...?

Once again, a certain word came to mind. And this time, it tumbled out of her mouth before she could catch herself.

Maybe she should’ve been more bothered by the slip-up, but she was a little too distracted by that blush deepening to care.

Reimu turned away.

Yuuma decided to have a little fun, circled around. “Cute,” she said again.

Reimu turned away again. “Shut up.”

“What?” Yuuma said, grinning ear to ear as she circled around again. “I mean it.”

Grunting, Reimu turned away yet again and kept turning as Yuuma followed. “Shut up!”

“Aw c’mon, learn to take a compliment!”

“You’re not complimenting me, you’re making fun of me!”

“Hey, I don’t throw compliments like that around unless I mean ‘em!”

Then Yuuma stopped. She ran over what she just said, ran it over again, then ran it over a third time.

She meant it?

... Yeah. Yeah, she did. She found Reimu cute. The frank, no-nonsense human who always tore a straight line through everything and only ever put in as much effort as absolutely necessary was cute. Suddenly, her being such a ladykiller made a lot more sense.

Come to think of it, didn’t she say she never came on to anyone last time they talked? So all her friends and girlfriends and whatnot all had to approach her to get anywhere. Kinda like how Yuuma never handed out invites to the Gouyoku; they had to be the ones to take action.

That had to be the biggest reason why Yuuma was still hung up on whether or not Reimu was Gouyoku material. Because on the one hand, she had a lot of qualities that’d make her fit right in. But on the other, she also had a lot of qualities that made her an ill fit for their line of work. Not to mention Reimu flat out said she’d never join them in a million years. Too bad, really. A hotshot like her could cause some serious damage to the competition if she ever set her mind to it.

But maybe it was for the best she didn’t. Someone as strong and influential as her had to wield that kind of power carefully if they didn’t wanna cause any unnecessary trouble. Besides, she was too busy with Gensokyo’s nonsense to have any time for the Animal Realm’s.

If it were anyone else, Yuuma would’ve put them out of her mind by now. But not Reimu. She’d taken root in there and refused to leave. Her strange charm (and admittedly pretty face) had something to do with that, sure, but Yuuma’d been struggling these last couple weeks trying to explain to herself what that charm even was. But now she had it.

Reimu was cute. As simple as.

A thought occurred. “Hey Reimu.”

“Huh?” Reimu looked over her shoulder at Yuuma. “What now?”

“You got lots of girlfriends, right?”

She hesitated. “Right,” she answered slowly.

“And some of ‘em are youkai, right?”

She hesitated even longer. “I guess.”

“And I’m guessing they’ve all caused some trouble in the past, yeah?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Where are you going with this?”

A pause. Hesitation on Yuuma’s part. She fought the urge to lick her lips, opened her mouth and...

“What about me?”

Reimu’s eyes widened. Her jaw went slack. “Huh?”

Yuuma considered her next words carefully. “Let’s say, hypothetically, I took that kind of interest in you. Would you turn me down?”

Now Reimu’s jaw really went slack. It took her a moment to sputter a failed response, plus another to manage an actual one. “You’re not serious, are you? Where is this even coming from?”

“Dunno. Never really thought much about that stuff before. Then we had our talk and, welp, now I kinda am.”

She wasn’t lying either.

Part of it was just getting hung up on the idea of some human somehow charming her way into the hearts of (allegedly) a lot more than ten ladies without even trying. Ridiculous. Total bullshit. Yet somehow true, apparently. It would have been easy to write it off as lies or hyperbole, but...

Yuuma had more or less done a similar thing in building the Gouyoku Alliance, so she knew for a fact this kind of thing wasn’t impossible, just highly improbable. It took a very rare, very special kind of person to pull off what they did.

“I know you’re your own person,” she continued, “and there’s a whole lot we don’t have in common, but... I dunno, I still think we’ve got enough we do have in common that...” She considered her words again. “Maybe, if I behave myself and play my cards right, we could have...something.”

A long silence followed. Reimu stared at her all the while, as if trying to look through her, pick out any signs of deception.

She wouldn’t find any, though. Yuuma meant every word.

After what felt like forever, Reimu sighed, turned around and went back to her sweeping.

“That a no?”

That didn’t sound too disappointed, did it?

Reimu stopped, sighed again. She turned back to Yuuma with a strange, wry sort of smile. “Just don’t cause any trouble.”

A moment passed to let the words sink in. Then Yuuma grinned, chuckled. “Relax, I prefer to save all my troublemaking for back home.”

Reimu nodded. “So what exactly is this ‘something’ you want us to have?”

“Well, friends sounds like a good place to start,” Yuuma replied with a shrug. “Maybe work our way up to best buds from there.”

“Yuuma the loner wants friends all of a sudden, huh?”

“Heh. Watch it, punk.”

Maybe this growing sense of kinship Yuuma felt with Reimu would go somewhere. Maybe it wouldn’t. Hard to say, it’d been a good while since she felt a genuine kinship with anyone. Come to think of it, this might be her trying to fill the hole Ran had left so long ago...

But whatever, she could just figure it out as she went. Wherever it goes or doesn’t go, at least she’d have some good company to enjoy.

Chapter Text

“And you’d think it’d be one of those things that’s booby-trapped to explode or curse you or something, but nope! Just sorta fizzled a bit and that was it. Kinda disappointing, to be honest.”

Another early evening, another visit from Marisa. Miyoi couldn’t recall when they started making a habit of this, but it didn’t bother her. On the contrary, she looked forward to it.

“I’m surprised it’s only ‘kinda’ disappointing, considering how much effort you went through,” she replied with her usual smile.

Marisa shrugged, took a sip of the drink Miyoi always had to remind her to order. “You get used to it after a while. Most of the ones that do work just pull the usual tricks, so a dud’s at least a different kind of disappointment.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“What, the disappointment? Ehhh... Like I said, you get used to it. A place like Gensokyo’s got tons of magic items all over the place, so you can bet there’s just as many duds ‘n the like. Maybe even more.”

Miyoi had no response to that, save for a thoughtful hum.

Get used to the disappointment, hm...

“It must be hard,” was all Miyoi could think to say.

“You better believe it. Sometimes I get entire strings of duds and I just gotta power through it. Been that way since I was a kid.”

“Oh wow, that must have been discouraging. I’m impressed you stuck with it. If it were me, I’d have probably...”

Wait. Was she saying too much? Was she giving herself away?

“Given up, right?” Marisa nodded. “I get that. You’re prob’ly not the type to run on spite, like I am.”

“Spite?”

She suddenly grew hesitant, averted her gaze. “It’s, uh... It’s a long story. Don’t wanna tell it.”

Ah...

Temptation poked at Miyoi, suggested she try asking if she’d ever told anyone. Even the most personal story had to be shared with someone, right?

No. Boundaries must be respected, especially between server and patron.

But surely this fell within those boundaries, it insisted. After all, is it not the barkeep’s job to lend an ear to a troubled soul?

But she forced the thoughts down. The barkeep’s job was to lend an ear to any troubled soul willing to speak. And if that soul didn’t want to speak of their troubles, then she had no right to pry. No matter how curious she might be. No matter how much she wished to know more of her dearest customer. No matter how much she wanted to close the distance between them, to remove the bar dividing them, to take Marisa in her arms and...

“I’m sorry...”

Marisa’s brow creased with concern. “H-Hey, don’t worry about it! It’s all ancient history anyways!” She put on one of her usual grins. “You know me, always the forward thinker. If today sucks, just shoot for tomorrow! If tomorrow sucks, shoot for the day after! And if that day sucks... Well, you get the idea.”

Miyoi couldn’t help but smile at that, even giggled a little. “That’s a good way to look at it.” Then her smile faltered. “But it’s hard to keep going in the moment, isn’t it?”

“Well...” Marisa’s gaze fell to the bar between them. “Yeah. Can’t really argue with you on that one.”

A certain oni’s gourd crossed Miyoi’s mind. She suspected it also crossed Marisa’s…

Come on poster girl, don’t drag her into your depression, pull her out of hers.

“It’s a very Reimu-like mentality, don’t you think?”

Marisa lifted her head, stared a moment, then gave a small smile. “Yeah, guess so.” And then her face lit up. “Oh yeah! Speaking of Reimu, she’s got a new girlfriend.”

“Another one?! How many does that make?!”

“Beats me. She doesn’t keep count, so why should I?”

There was an opening here, an opportunity to steer the conversation in a certain direction. And Miyoi had until Marisa finished sipping her drink to make a choice: Take a risk and move things in that direction, or play it safe and keep things the way they were now.

This wasn’t the first time she’d been faced with it, and as long as she continued like this, it wouldn’t be the last time either.

It was exhausting, willingly letting every opportunity slip through her fingers.

So was the fear.

Was it worth the risk? Was the pain she might face in taking her chance worth escaping the pain she felt now, the pain of not knowing?

...

Alright.

She made her choice.

“Marisa.”

“Hm?” Marisa set her drink down. “What’s up?”

Okay... Okay, not too late to back out, but don’t. Not after finally finding the nerve. It’s okay. No need to go straight for the big question; try working your way to it. Just think out the words carefully. Don’t force the topic, just gently guide the discussion towards it.

Miyoi fought the urge to gulp. “What do you think of that sort of thing? With Reimu, I mean.”

Marisa eyed her curiously. “Like everyone hooking up with her?” she asked after a moment.

Miyoi nodded. “You always talk about the ones that take an interest in her, but never about the ones that take an interest in you.”

“None of ‘em take an interest in me.”

Something in that tone...

She bit her lip. “Does that...bother you?”

“Nope.”

Marisa answered so quickly and flippantly it threw Miyoi for a loop. So much so she could only parrot back the word.

“Nope,” Marisa said again, “not at all. If she wants a million girlfriends then more power to her, but I don’t need that many. Or any.”

“W-Well I, I mean, I’m sure you don’t, but...” Get it together, Miyoi. Take a breath. “Sorry. I don’t know why that flustered me so much.”

A lie, of course. One Marisa wasn’t quite buying, judging by the look on her face.

She also looked just as uncomfortable with the silence as Miyoi did, so she continued, “Honestly, I just don’t get that stuff. I mean, I kinda do, but I also kinda don’t.”

Wait, huh? “What do you mean?”

“It’s just...” Marisa gestured vaguely at the air. “Romance and stuff. I just don’t get any of it. Or how you’re supposed to do any of it, I guess?”

Miyoi blinked. “What do you mean?” she asked again.

“It’s just, sometimes I catch people getting lovey-dovey and I get embarrassed ‘cause, y’know, I’m kinda intruding on something. But that’s it. I don’t get jealous or start wishing I had that kind of special someone and all that. It just...feels like something other people do.”

Something...other people do? “But not you?”

Marisa shook her head. “Not me.”

A pit formed in Miyoi’s stomach. “But haven’t you at least thought about it?”

She knew she shouldn’t do this. She would never ask her other customers such personal questions, for far too many reasons. They all had a right to privacy, and she had no right to violate that. Especially not when it came to Marisa.

But it’s impossible not to wonder. As long as it doesn’t bother her, what’s the harm in asking? There’s no way to know otherwise.

But in that case, it’s best to never know.

But what good would that do? Was suffering with the pain of never knowing worth it?

But—

“Hey, don’t ask questions if you won't even listen to the answer.”

Miyoi snapped to attention. “I-I’m sorry! I’m really not myself tonight!”

Marisa gave her an odd look. It felt like she was trying to probe Miyoi’s mind through sight alone. “Yeah, I noticed.” With a sigh, she continued, “So like I just said, of course I’ve thought about it. Why?”

It wasn’t too late to back out. Miyoi could change topics now and Marisa would go along with it. They could just go on about their normal business, everything as it always was.

Including the pining that plagued her, that wouldn’t go away without one last try.

Was she okay with that?

...

“It’s just... There’s something I want to know.” She stopped, reconsidered her words. “No, what I mean to say is, I want to make sure I understand you correctly.”

She already understood perfectly. If anything, this was just one last, futile act of desperation. One final attempt in some vain hope she could get a different answer, even though she knew she wouldn’t.

“You said you’ve thought about it, but... have you ever tried it?”

“Yeah.” Marisa’s reply was immediate. “Several times, with a whole bunch of my other friends.”

With her other friends...

But not Miyoi...

“And I never felt that special something with any of ‘em. I dunno what that something’s supposed to feel like, but I’m taking that to mean I just don’t feel it.”

Miyoi bit her lip again. It started to hurt. “And that... That doesn’t bother you?”

“It doesn’t. Was never disappointed when it didn’t work out either, even when they were.” Then Marisa looked a bit sad. “Well, one of ‘em was. They acted like they didn’t care, but...”

“I can imagine...”

“Yeah, stuff like that’s why I just don’t even wanna try anymore.”

Then...

That was it. Miyoi had her answer.

Although she couldn’t stop herself from asking one last question. “Do you...” She took a steadying breath. “Do you think there’s any chance you could change your mind?”

Something in the look in Marisa’s eyes changed in that moment. It was hard to say for sure, but if felt like recognition of some kind. As though she picked up on Miyoi’s intentions, her feelings. It made Miyoi feel self-conscious, almost enough so to forget her... Well, her other feelings...

“I don’t.” Marisa’s voice was soft. Her expression grew apologetic. “It’s just not something I wanna deal with. I’m not interested.”

And that was that. No need to say anything else. The matter had been pressed as hard as it could without straining under pressure; any more and they would hit a breaking point.

Come on, poster girl, keep a stiff chin. You still have a job to do.

“That’s fair,” Miyoi managed. “I’m sorry for prying about this.”

She didn’t sound like she was about to cry, did she...?

Thankfully not, judging by how Marisa relaxed a little. “’S okay, I don’t blame you.” She went to take a sip, only to pause, then raise her glass to Miyoi. “Another one, please?”

“Please?” Miyoi couldn’t help but laugh a little at that as she poured Marisa’s drink. “Why so polite all of a sudden?”

“You calling me impolite?” Marisa laughed, then looked away when she realized the joke didn’t land, rubbed the back of her neck. “So um, before we drop this, I wanna ask you something.”

“That’s fair. What is it?”

A brief pause. “How exactly do you fall in love with someone? I know there’s love at first sight, but that’s not the only way, is it?”

Miyoi put on a small smile. It probably looked about as sad as it felt. “No, it’s not. Sometimes it is, but sometimes it’s gradual. And sometimes it’s a sudden change. You spend a long time feeling a certain way about someone only to wake up one morning feeling something else for them. Maybe there’s a reason to it, or maybe there isn’t. Maybe it just happens.”

It was the only explanation that made sense to her, after all. Only she could answer the question as to why she felt this way about Marisa, and yet she couldn’t. And now, she didn’t really care to. Not much point to it now.

Oh well.

“What happened?”

“Huh?”

Miyoi realized she was still behind the counter, only now instead of Marisa it was Suika and Mamizou sitting there. Had she just been standing there the whole time? Surely not, she must have moved at some point...

But never mind that. Presently, Suika held out her sake cup expectantly. There was an odd look on her face; it seemed almost...concerned? Maybe even worried?

“Sorry.” Miyoi refilled the cup, offered an apologetic smile.

Suika’s expression remained unchanged. “What happened?” she asked again, a bit more firmly.

“N-Nothing,” Miyoi replied reflexively.

“Don’t give me that. Your eyes are puffy—you were crying earlier, weren’t you?”

“U-Um...” She stiffened to combat the urge to retreat into the kitchen. Servers were not to abandon their customers, no matter the circumstance.

“Just tell me already.”

Mamizou, watching the scene unfold with a particularly unamused look, said, “If you want my opinion, it’s—”

“I don’t.”

“... It’s a mite improper to go pokin’ your nose into your server’s personal affairs.”

“Oh come on,” Suika retorted while shooting Mamizou a dirty look, “you noticed it too.”

“I did, but it ain’t my business as a customer to pry into my server’s personal life.”

“Oh wow, that’s a shocker! You, of all people, not poking your nose in someone else’s business."

“No fighting, please.”

Miyoi’s interjection didn’t have much strength to it. Her voice was on the soft side, if anything. But something about its frailty gave it a cutting edge one would expect of a sharper tone.

Mamizou’s mouth hung open as whatever retort she had planned died in her throat. Clearing her throat, she turned away from Suika and focused on some random part of the wall, adjusting her glasses.

Suika held her dirty look for another moment before huffing and taking a swig of her drink. Setting her cup down with a sigh, she focused back on Miyoi. “So are you gonna answer my question?”

Miyoi looked down and away, remaining silent.

Another sigh. “Alright, then I’ll guess. Somebody die?”

A momentary hesitation, then Miyoi shook her head. It was a small motion, barely noticeable to anyone not looking for it.

“Somebody hurt?”

Another shake of the head.

“Somebody sick?”

Another shake.

Suika went silent for a moment, then let out a puff of breath. “Broken heart?”

Miyoi flinched.

“Mm.” Suika nodded. “Yeah, figures you’d cry over something like that.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Mamizou interjected. “I’m sure you would too, given the opportunity.”

“Opportunity to what, get my heart broken?”

“Yes, assumin’ you have one.”

“The hell d’you mean assuming?”

“No fighting, please.” Miyoi forced herself to face them, expression somewhere between pain and exhaustion.

The two went silent again. Mamizou bit her lip, mumbled an apology, and once again took interest in the wall. Suika just gave Miyoi another look. It was...soft. Softer than any other look Miyoi had ever seen from her.

The heaviness in her chest lightened just the tiniest bit.

“Well,” Suika said, “I’ll tell ya this: Better you get all your crying outta the way now instead of bottling it up.”

“I know.” Miyoi put on a smile. “It wouldn’t do for Geidontei’s poster girl to be a sad sack on the job. I’d drive away the customers.” She forced a laugh.

“Well yeah, that too, but I’m more gettin’ at not drowning in self-pity. Don’t want all that stinkin’ up my gourd, y’know?”

This time, Miyoi didn’t have to force it as much. It still took a conscious effort, just not as much. “Of course not.”

Mamizou glanced over at them. “Is that really all you’re worried about, dearie?”

Suika’s dirty look returned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

But Mamizou didn’t answer, save for a knowing grin. She stood, put some money on the counter, and walked out. Miyoi made a token effort to stop her, but she just waved it off with an excuse about it being late, sparing one last glance and smirk at Suika before closing the door behind her.

Miyoi stared at the door for a moment, then turned to Suika, who was staring intently at her drink. “What do you think that was about?”

At first, Suika said nothing. She stared into her drink a bit more, then at the door, then her drink again. Then she muttered, “Nosy pain in the ass...”

“Suika?”

“Nothing I can tell you right now. Not when you’re like this.”

Like this?

... Oh. Right. Funny, she almost forgot about being sad.

“Love’s a messy thing, huh? Just kinda bleeds into everything and gets in the way.”

It was a jarring statement, to say the least. Completely unprompted, and crassly put on top of that. If it was meant to be reassuring, it was a very Suika way of doing it. This was delicate by her standards.

Miyoi appreciated that. “It is. And it doesn’t like being ignored either.”

“Tell me about it.”

She nodded, managed a small, sympathetic smile. “Are you speaking from experience?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I can tell you about it, if you’re up for it.”

Was she...?

After giving it some thought, Miyoi nodded. Maybe hearing about someone else’s past heartbreak wasn’t the best idea when she was still nursing her own, but if this was Suika’s attempt and consoling her, then who was she to say no?

Suika nodded back. “Alright then. But first, lemme ask you this: Ever heard of an oni called Ibaraki?”

Chapter Text

It’s been said that a change of wardrobe can give a completely different impression. For Zanmu, it was like catching a glimpse of another her, one who lived a far different, more peaceful life. It would have been a far shorter one considering she most likely would have remained human, but certainly no lesser for it.

Especially if she could have been a Hakurei.

Zanmu smiled as she looked herself over for about the dozenth time. She did a little spin, relishing in the way the skirt twirled about her and the sleeves trailed along with the motion. It was fun, she had to admit. Enough so to almost consider investing in some long skirts of her own.

And then there was the material: Light and airy, no doubt to make flying easier, not to mention soft, if a bit worn down from years of use. She was half-tempted to ask if Reimu had any spares she could borrow, indefinitely if possible.

She spun again, in the opposite direction. Her smile grew. “I feel so light,” she mused, “as though I could float away at any moment.” Then she turned to Reimu. “And how do you feel?”

“Like I’m weighed down by several lifetimes’ worth of sins.”

It was unfortunate Reimu didn’t share in the merriment, but no one could blame her. For one thing, Zanmu’s own preferred ensemble lacked the brightness of Reimu’s shrine maiden uniform (the ribbon—which Reimu staunchly refused to part with, on the grounds she “felt naked without it and you have your horns anyway so I need something for my head”—wasn’t enough and clashed with the Zanmu’s clothes anyway). For another, while the clothes were baggy enough around the limbs, they were a bit heavier and didn’t breathe as well. It suited Zanmu just fine, but for anyone else...

She laughed. “Only several, you say? I could have sworn it was more than that. Some must have come out in the wash.”

“Sins can come out in the wash?” Reimu asked earnestly.

Zanmu laughed again, shook her head. “It was a joke, dear Reimu.”

Reimu looked away with a blush and a pout. “I knew that.”

The smirk on Zanmu’s face made it clear she didn’t buy that.

Crossing her arms, Reimu added, “I mean, Hell is where you pay penance for your sins, right? So for all I know, maybe there’s some kind of sin-purifying soap down there...”

“Nothing of the sort, I’m afraid. Hell does not show much tenderness to the sinful.”

“Yeah, I know.” She sighed, pinched the fabric of Zanmu’s shirt. “It’s kind of tight around the torso.”

“It has to be. If it were loose-fitting all over, getting around would be even more difficult.”

“It is pretty windy down there. Do the limbs give you much trouble?”

“Not really.”

“Huh.”

And then they went quiet. Not much more to discuss on that front.

With this lull in the conversation, Zanmu’s thoughts turned to Reimu. She didn’t look bad in her lover’s clothes; they didn’t suit her, but they at least fit her figure well. And it was nice they could share something like this. Wonderful, even.

But...

It gave her a glimpse of another Reimu, one who lived a far less blessed life. This one was no Hakurei, never given the chance to carry out such a role. Instead, this Reimu had been condemned to suffer a life that knew only loss and endless conflict. Perhaps she never made any friends, or perhaps she did only to lose them. Perhaps she, too, traveled a road to Hell not unlike Zanmu’s.

Would they have still met under those circumstances? Would this Reimu even have a Zanmu to call her own?

...

“What’s wrong?”

Zanmu jolted out of her thoughts. “Nothing,” she replied quickly.

Reimu gave her a concerned look. “Are you sure? You have that look on your face.”

“What look?” Another too-quick reply.

Which earned her an admonishing look as Reimu put her hands on her hips. “The one you make when you’re thinking depressing thoughts.”

A rebuttal rose up only to catch in her throat. Then she swallowed both it and her pride, sighed while running a hand through her hair. “Was it that obvious?”

That got a smirk out of Reimu. “No, I just know you well enough.”

“... Hah.” Zanmu smirked back. “Fair enough.”

Now then, how best to answer? It wouldn’t do to dampen Reimu’s mood with those depressing thoughts, but it was clear she wouldn’t let the matter slide without a proper answer. Which really just meant being honest without divulging too much.

“I was just seeing a bit of myself in you.”

She didn’t elaborate on that, for she had no need to. They had had many a conversation about seeing bits of themselves in each other already; today was not the day for another one.

Reimu, now with a more sober expression, simply nodded.

“But that aside,” Zanmu said, “while you wear my clothes well, dear Reimu, I can’t in good conscience say they suit you. I just can’t see you passing as a denizen of Hell.”

“That’s fair,” Reimu replied, smirk returning. “I feel the same way about you. You’re too cynical and morbid to wear bright colors.”

And again, Zanmu returned the smirk. “But I still wear them well, right?”

“Duh. We’re the same height.”

Then that was good enough for her. It wasn’t like she planned on taking over for the Hakurei shrine maiden, at least not anymore. If there was a Zanmu who could replace or even be a Hakurei, she wouldn’t be a Zanmu. Just like how no Reimu could ever be a Nippaku.

“Ooh, now someone’s thinking happy thoughts.”

Zanmu stiffened a bit, then relaxed as she realized Reimu was hugging her from behind. Must have slipped around her while she was lost in thought, the cheeky thing.

“That’s good,” Reimu added, resting her chin on Zanmu’s shoulder.

“If it were anyone else, I’d be more concerned you read me so well.” Zanmu chuckled, brought a hand up to pet Reimu’s head.

Neither had anything else to say, so they simply enjoyed their little moment in silence. No dwelling on what-ifs that would never come to be in this lifetime, just savoring what they do have, here and now.
And after the moment has passed...

“Can I have my clothes back now?”

“No."

"Aw, come on."

"No."

"You'll have to give them back sooner or later."

"Then I will give them back later."

"Zanmu."

"Reimu."