"There. Can you see?"

Yuuka looked down towards where Mima was pointing at, at the small shrine the two of them were hovering above, brushing away the long green curls cascading over her eyes for a better view. A child with sleek purple hair and dressed in traditional clothing had slid the door open with her pudgy fingers and stepped onto the porch. She was young even for a human, or so Yuuka assumed, anyway; she had never been good at differentiating humans from each other, let alone at gauging their respective ages. The child looked around for a moment, her expression unreadable from the height they were at, then grabbed a broom leaning into the shrine's wall and started clumsily sweeping the dust on the courtyard.

"Yes, I can see." Yuuka looked at Mima and frowned. The ghost was staring at down the girl with peculiar intensity, arms folded and a deep crease between her eyes. "However, I do not see why it was so necessary for me to leave my gardens just to look at some human sapling. Is there some purpose to this excursion, or did you cast this spell," she gestured at the warding bubble surrounding her and Mima that rendered them invisible and unhearable to human eyes and ears, "and waste both our time just to irritate me?"

Mima sneered at her. "What, don't you know who that is?"

Yuuka rolled her eyes. "A new branch that recently sprouted into the Hakurei family tree. What of it?" She had never understood Mima's fixation with the Hakurei clan, let alone why she was supposed to care when Gensoukyou's events had but a tenuous connection to the status quo in Mugenkan.

Mima smirked, a hint of her earlier enthusiasm returning. "Not just any branch. Her parents are gone, you see. That," she pointed at the girl far below them, "is the very last member of the Hakurei clan."

Yuuka slowly clapped her hands together. "You've finally reached your goal, then. I suppose congratulations are in order." She frowned. "Although, I still do not understand why you dragged me here. If it's a witness to your triumph you want, I'd rather you had invited me over when you slayed her mother. I doubt the sapling will put up much of a fight."

"I know." Mima visibly hesitated, then continued in a lower tone, as if she somehow feared eavesdropping despite the soundproof warding spell. "I didn't kill her parents, actually."

"Who was it, then? Will you send them a gift basket or a death threat?" Yuuka chuckled. "Perhaps a gift basket full of daggers and poison will do the trick."

Mima rolled her eyes. "Very amusing." Her countenance turned sombre. "I'm not actually certain they're dead. All I know they won't be bothering me any time soon."

"What happened, then?" Yuuka leaned backwards, smiling wanly. Perhaps this trip wouldn't be a complete waste of time if Mima at least had an interesting tale to tell of the fate of the last adult members of the Hakurei clan. "Did they simply disappear into thin air? How can you be so certain they won't be bothering you any longer?"

Mima opened her mouth to speak, but froze, eyes staring into the distance. Eventually, she gave up and shook her head. "I don't actually know how to describe what I saw."

"Oh?" Now Yuuka's curiosity was definitely piqued. "Something so arcane and mystical happened that even our self-proclaimed master magician can't make heads or tails out of it, hmm?"

Mima bristled at her words. "The problem isn't with my understanding. It's that I didn't actually witness what happened for myself, and only have the residues of the magic that occurred to go by."

"And what do they tell you?"

Mima frowned, focusing. "It happened in the woods, for one, near the side entrance to Makai." She raised her right hand to her chest level, palm upwards. Yuuka looked on with interest as two miniature orbs of light materialised a few inches above the open palm, one red, one blue. "At first, there were two distinct presences in the area. Well," she glared at the blue orb, faint and dim compared to its red counterpart, "one distinct presence, and one remarkable only in its utter averageness. And then..." A third orb appeared, this one the purest white and big enough to swallow the older orbs whole several times over. The red orb began to pulse with intense light, casting red stripes onto Mima's pale hand which were soon engulfed by the white light emanating from the largest orb. Yuuka narrowed her eyes as light grew painful, and once she opened her eyes in full again, only the white orb remained.

"Well," she said. "Based on that, I assume..." She paused. The orb had begun to pulse again. Only now, it began to change in colour. First, white gave way to red, then blue, then red again, before finally returning to white once more. "Huh. Curious."

"You can say that again." Mima closed her hand around the orb and the light died out. "I have some theories as to what happened, but I need to verify them first, and the last time I checked all three presences had vanished almost as if earth itself had swallowed them. It'll have to wait."

Yuuka shrugged. "I doubt it matters much, anyway. More importantly, shall you finish off the Hakurei bloodline now? This is your big chance, after all."

Mima waved her hand. "Killing a little brat like that isn't going to be very satisfying, the last Hakurei or not. I'm going to wait until she grows a little, until her powers awaken. You can feel it, can't you? She has tremendous potential within her, just waiting to fill that orb with power." She flashed her teeth. "I can have both the power of Hakurei and my revenge in one fell swoop."

Yuuka cocked her eyebrow. "Isn't that what villains in human fairytales do? Spare children who are destined to defeat them and then act shocked when they do exactly that at the end of the tale?"

"This is not a fairytale. Besides, I know what I'm doing."

"That's what the villains always say, too." Based on the way Mima turned her head away and sniffed haughtily, she had decided to ignore her. "Speaking of revenge, did you finally remember why you hold a grudge against the clan?"

"No. I doubt I ever will. The reason doesn't matter, anyway. What matters is that I know I must take revenge and will do precisely that."

Yuuka had been half expecting this answer. By now, there were more times Mima's memory had failed than there were stars in the sky. It only made sense she had learned to follow her intuition instead.

"Fair enough," she conceded. "Plot your devious plots and hope for the best. I should be interesting enough to watch this situation unfold, at least. Then again," she continued, examining her fingernails. "I doubt think she'll live long enough for your plan to succeed."

"What do you mean?" Mima asked, visibly confused. "Think someone else is going to get her first?"

"Not quite. Have other humans been here since her parents left?"

Mima shrugged. "I haven't seen any."

Yuuka nodded. "Even I know the former shrine maiden was very reclusive, alienating most of the people she was supposed to be protecting. Humans act like weakling youkai with people like that; they stay away except at times of emergency. Ergo, it may take a long while before anyone approaches the shrine. Who's going to look after the sapling until then?"

"She'll do it herself, of course. She can walk around just fine, I'm sure she can hunt." A pause. "Although, so far I've only seen her eat grass from the ground. She seems unwilling to leave the shrine area."

"If she won't leave, and no-one else arrives, she will surely perish. Humans are like garden plants: they need food, water, and love to keep blossoming. This sapling will wilt in a few weeks without help."

Mima looked thoughtful for a while, then shrugged nonchalantly. "That's not really my concern. I can survive without the power of Hakurei." She grinned wryly. "In fact, staying here and watching her slowly die as nature takes its course should be quite satisfying."

"Indeed." Yuuka opened her parasol. "Still, if you'll excuse me, I have some flowers to tend to. I may return when the hour of her demise draws nearer, but until then..." She inclined her head. "I hope you enjoy your show."

Mima nodded back. "See you later."

Yuuka exited the bubble, smiling at the brief tingly sensation as she passed through the ward, then turned her head to see Mima still staring downwards, a malicious grin plastered onto her face. She shrugged and flew southwards, savouring the warm air around her.

After two weeks of pleasant gardening, augmented by frequent naps, Yuuka returned to Gensoukyou. She found Mima exactly where she had left her, curled up within the warding spell with an unreadable expression on her face. Yuuka floated in.

"Greetings. Is the sapling still alive, then?"

Mima barely glanced at Yuuka before looking back down. She nodded wearily, massaging her temples. "Not only alive, but thriving as well. Just look at what happened."

Yuuka did so. The shrine maiden was outdoors again, diligently sweeping the courtyard. Everything looked the same as the last time Yuuka had visited, save for a large brown box sitting on the porch that most certainly hadn't been there before. She squinted her eyes. The box was open and torn on the side, and she could make out its contents: it was filled with rice. She shot Mima a questioning look.

"Someone from the village came to give the shrine to leave a donation and noticed. She received another box just yesterday, one stuffed with apples and beans." Mima sighed. "From what I understand, it's not the most nutritious food in the world, but plenty enough to keep her alive and kicking."

Yuuka shrugged. "Food alone isn't enough. She's still going to need love to survive."

"I'm not so sure about that. I know you weren't that familiar with the old shrine maiden, but trust me when I say she was a loner, and it looks like the same applies to this kid, too. She seems perfectly content left to her own devices. You should hear how she pleased she sounds when she hums to herself, or the look on her face when she finds one of those packages."

"Finds the package? I would have expected the other humans to deliver them to her face to face."

Mima shrugged. "Who knows. It's just one person, anyway. Maybe he's shy."

Yuuka looked on mutely as the child waved the broom back and forth, in what was almost a hypnotic gesture. A strange thought was dawning to her. "So, who is this mystery benefactor who brings her all this food?"

"Some pointless peasant from the human village, by the looks of it. Brown hair and eyes, plain clothes. He creeps up here around dawn and leaves the package, along with a small donation, then dashes off."

"Interesting. He doesn't sound very wealthy. How can he afford to feed her, let alone to give her money as well?"

"How should I know? Maybe the village pools the money together or something. All I know is that guy is helping the little brat out."

"Really now?" Yuuka grinned coyly. "You see, if I didn't know any better, I'd say nobody from the human village has visited the shrine since I last came here."

Mima gave her a withering glare. "In that case, I have to wonder if you've lost your wits. Do you honestly think those packages appeared out of thin air?"

"Of course not." Yuuka placed her index finger on her lips. "Merely, that it's not necessarily a human that's aiding the sapling. In fact, I believe her real benefactor might be very close by indeed."

It only took Mima a moment to catch her meaning, and she met it with a derisive snort. "That doesn't even work as a joke. You if anyone should know I wouldn't help this brat for all the power in the world." She paused. "Well, perhaps for all the power, but that's hardly the case here."

"Oh, did my little joke fail?" Yuuka feigned a pout. "And here I thought you'd get a good chuckle out of it."

Mima yawned and stretched her arms. "It might be funnier if it were something plausible."

Yuuka quirked an eyebrow. "Plausible? Here in Gensoukyou?"

Mima grinned. "Fair enough." She looked down once more. "Well, I've decided to switch back to my original plan. I'll let whatever aid she gets pass through for now, and wait until she's older and skillful before killing her. I have waited for centuries. I can wait for ten years longer."

"That sounds almost sensible."

"Why wouldn't it sound sensible?" Mima looked up at Yuuka and glared. "Wipe that smirk off your face."

Yuuka's smirk only widened. "Why? It's such a lovely day I can hardly help smiling." She flicked open her parasol. "Speaking of lovely things, will you join me for tea later?"

"Sure. I've been spending far too much time here lately."

"Are you sure you'll be able to tear your eyes away from the sapling for long enough?"

"You make me sound like some sort of a maniac." Mima said, wrinkling her nose. "Of course I can. My life doesn't revolve around some human brat, you know. Never has and never will."

"Of course not." Yuuka said. She bowed her goodbyes. "See you later."

"Later."

Yuuka couldn't stop grinning the of whole way as she flew towards the entrance to Mugenkan. Gensoukyou's flowers had nothing on the majesty and vividness of the flowers of her garden, but they were still precious in her eyes.

Of course, they weren't the only thing that made her smile.

During the centuries which she had known Mima, the Hakurei bloodline had been reduced to only one person several times. Every single time, Mima had had a compelling and reasonable excuse for why she hadn't taken her final revenge. This time was no different: her response to Yuuka's insinuations had been perfectly composed, nonchalant, and rational.

Yuuka's grin widened.

Mima had always been a good liar.