Getting ready for a night of scaring humans was a big undertaking, and it was one that Kogasa took very seriously.

Today, for example, she'd read a book of ghost stories. She wasn't sure where she'd gotten it or how old it was. Every horizontal surface of her cottage was covered in clutter—blacksmithing tools, broken household items that she'd saved from the trash around the human village, books, and random objects that she'd picked up for scaring purposes, all arranged around tidy displays of rescued umbrellas. Determining the age of her belongings was more a matter of archaeology than memory.

Wherever the book was from, it had given her some good material to work with. One story was about a servant girl who was murdered by her employer, but then her ghost returned every night to kill off one of his family members until he died from fright. It was a bit gory for Kogasa's tastes, but there were definitely some good spooking techniques in there, if she ever found herself in a mansion. There was another story about a monk who'd been poisoned by a rival, and his spirit had haunted the monastery, killing every exorcist who came, until the place had to be abandoned. That one was less helpful—Kogasa didn't think she'd be able to pass for a monk even if she shaved her head.

The last story, though, was about a thief who'd killed a girl and hidden her body in a well. One by one, the people of the town had come down with mysterious illnesses and died, until finally, the guilt-stricken murderer had confessed. When the survivors went to find the body, they raised the well's bucket, only to find that the rope was now tied around the dead girl's neck like a noose. As the girl's corpse rose from the well, its arms were outstretched like it was preparing for an attack. The robber had instantly died of fright.

Now that was a good ghost story.

With her usual enthusiasm, Kogasa had spent most of the day trying to invent scaring techniques based on the story. She wasn't sure how to tie a noose, but she'd made her best attempt, and hung the resulting loop of rope around her neck. She'd spent most of an hour standing in front of a mirror, practicing corpse-like poses. She'd briefly thought about dumping a bucket of water over her head to get an authentic 'just fished out of a well' look, but it seemed like she'd dry off before she found somebody.

And then, once she was ready, she headed out for a night of scaring.

By the time she left home, the sun had already sunk below Youkai Mountain. Long evening shadows fell across the mist from the river, and even the areas that were well-lit had a deep red-orange tinge to them, like the entire world was huddled around a campfire. It was the perfect spooky atmosphere. It only made her more excited, and by the time she was within sight of the human village, she had to restrain herself from skipping.

She didn't head into the village, though. She circled around it, along the wide, safe paths that the humans mostly stuck to. There were still a few stragglers on the roads, and they gave her as wide a berth as they could. Kogasa tried her best to ignore them, even though her stomach growled at the hints of uneasiness coming off of them. Surprising humans here wasn't a good idea. Close to the village, they were harder to scare. Even if she pulled it off, chances were they'd come back an hour later, angry and with reinforcements.

No, Kogasa had a different destination in mind. Once she was to the far side of the village, she turned and walked up the narrower road that led to the Hakurei shrine.

It was prime territory.

Any human heading toward the shrine at night was going to be uneasy to begin with. Even better, the narrow road weaved and meandered up the hillside, through overgrown brush that shrouded the sky in dark, tangled shadows. The sight made Kogasa a bit anxious, herself. The entire area was one big hiding spot, and every shadow looked like it might hold a monster. Soon, hopefully, at least one would.

"What are you doing?"

The voice was flat and annoyed. Kogasa stopped in her tracks, glancing around. No speaker was immediately visible. "Um. Hello?"

"Hi. You didn't answer my question, though." The underbrush on the side of the path rustled, then parted.

Sekibanki stepped out.

Kogasa cringed as soon as she caught a glimpse of red hair, and getting a better view of her didn't help matters at all. Sekibanki looked even more annoyed than she sounded. Well, probably. The high collar hid most of her expression, but she was taking great care to concentrate an entire face's worth of scorn into her eyes.

"Oh! Good evening," Kogasa said, and hopefully added, "I was hoping that maybe I could surprise a few people around here tonight... maybe?"

"Absolutely not."

"It's a really long road, though! I'm sure I wouldn't get in your way, and...!"

"No."

"... I could even hide somewhere farther up the hill from you, so you can get first pick!"

"I don't think you understand your position here," Sekibanki said, in a voice of tired annoyance. She stepped closer and drew her cape in around herself. It hid everything except for her head, giving her roughly the same shape as an ice cream cone where some sick individual had put the ice cream on the wrong end. "This is the scariest road in Gensokyo, and the closest to the human village, too. It would—" She paused, seeming to notice Kogasa's outfit for the first time. "Why do you have a rope tied around your neck?"

"Oh, this?" Kogasa smiled and lifted the tailing end. "It's a noose! I'm supposed to be the ghost of a girl whose corpse got dumped in a well."

"You look like you were hanged, and the hangman didn't do a very good job."

"No, see, it's a really popular ghost story, and—!"

"And why would the ghost of some dead girl have an umbrella?"

"Maybe it was raining when I got murdered?"

"This is exactly what I'm talking about," Sekibanki said. "There's only room on this road for a few youkai. It's hard enough scaring people without those fairies behind the shrine trying to prank them first, and that's without competition from an... amateur."

"O-oh, um, well, maybe I could scare just one? I bet that once the first human is scared, the others will be even more—"

"No."

"—scared, and I've been working on this new routine where I do this really scary 'UUUUUUREEMASHIIIIIYAAAA' and stand up slowly instead of jumping out, and, um, I think it has a lot of potential—"

"I already told you no."

Kogasa trailed off, as it became apparent that this wasn't going to work. She glanced aside, pouting. Even her umbrella drooped. "I'm... really hungry," she admitted.

She could feel Sekibanki glaring at her. She didn't look up. Looking Sekibanki in the eye would be too humiliating at this point.

"When was the last time you surprised somebody?" Sekibanki asked.

"About five days ago. … it was a really small one, though. The surprise, I mean. Well, the human too, but—"

"I get it." Sekibanki still hesitated for a few seconds, glaring out at the horizon like she hoped to find an answer there. Finally, she sighed. "You can stay here."

"Oh! Thank you! I'll be sure to—"

"But," she continued sharply, cutting Kogasa off. "You'll be hiding in the bushes the whole time. I'll scare people, and you can feed off of the surprise. I don't want to hear a peep out of you. Do you understand?"

"Oh... maybe I can surprise them a little after you're done with them?"

"When I'm done with them—" Sekibanki drew herself up to her full height. Somehow, even with the collar, Kogasa could tell that she was smirking. "—they will never be surprised again."

"You're killing them?!"

"What? No. I'm just surprising them so much that lesser surprises will—never mind." Sekibanki gestured toward the underbrush. "Just hide and get ready. If a human comes along while we're having this pointless conversation, we'll both feel like idiots."

"Right…! Thank you so much!"

Kogasa stepped off of the path and climbed up the bank. As usual, it was pretty hard to find a suitable hiding spot. Blue wasn't exactly the stealthiest color, and even on a day with clear skies, closing her umbrella felt like a betrayal of everything that she stood for. She settled for crouching behind an especially dense patch of briars, hoping that any human who got close enough to see her would have already walked into Sekibanki's trap.

From her position, she could only just barely see Sekibanki, but she still made out some preparations. Sekibanki created half a dozen copies of her head, and they floated off into the darkness, taking up positions along the path.

There weren't exactly a lot of humans around, even on this, one of the few roads that they had reason to occasionally travel at night. Most of an hour passed. Kogasa's stomach started gnawing at her, urging her to go surprise somebody. Her legs kept falling asleep no matter what position she waited in. She still waited.

Her first hint that somebody was coming came from Sekibanki. Youkai magic flowed out from her, twisting the forest into more sinister appearances. A thick fog rose from the ground, coiling through the air like tentacles. Whispers drifted between the trees.

Kogasa felt the human approaching before she'd even heard their footsteps. They were already uneasy from being out at night, making them hard to miss. Jumpy and anxious, in the kind of mood where even a snapped twig or glimpsed movement in the corner of their eye might make them shriek.

It was a wonderful taste. It only whet her appetite, promising more without doing a thing to sate it. Her stomach growled again, and her fingers fussed indecisively against the handle of her umbrella. She had agreed to wait and lay low, but ignoring a human in that state went against her every instinct as a youkai, let alone when she hadn't surprised anybody in days.

She could hear the human's footsteps now. Along with them, Sekibanki's whispers grew more distinct. Her heads flew through the underbrush, repositioning themselves along the path, whispering the whole time: "My head. My head." The footsteps grew faster, the fear swelled up in the human's heart, and…

"URAMESHIYAAAA!"

Kogasa sprang out from the underbrush, thrusting her umbrella into the air.

The human skidded to a stop, yelping in surprised. He was a middle-aged man, and he'd barely managed to stop before he stumbled back, brandishing his walking stick like a weapon. "S-stay back…!" he whimpered.

Kogasa had moved so quickly and naturally that she hadn't even considered what to do next. Worse, she still couldn't think of much. The man's reaction was wonderful. It wasn't the nicest she'd ever gotten, but it was the first solid, filling response she'd had in weeks. Already, she could feel new life flowing into her.

Farther down the path, she could see Sekibanki, frozen halfway through rising out of a crouch. Sekibanki was glaring at her. Sekibanki was very good at glaring. She did not look like she was happy.

Right now, though, the human in front of her was a bigger issue.

"Oh, I'm not going to hurt you! I just wanted to surprise you! See, that's why I wore the noose!" Kogasa raised the rope for demonstration. "I'm supposed to look like a ghost—oh, but not the evil kind of ghost! Just the scary kind!"

The man took another step back, giving his cane a threatening shake.

"Um," Kogasa continued. "That's all I needed, really! You can keep going on your walk if you w—"

"HUMAN!" A voice boomed from behind her. "BEGONE!"

Three disembodied heads burst out from the underbrush. Mouths open, eyes streaming red energy, they flew overhead. The man gasped in shock and turned, sprinting toward the village. Within seconds, his footsteps had faded away into the night.

Kogasa was so wrapped up in watching him go that she didn't notice Sekibanki approaching. "What," Sekibanki asked sharply, "was that?"

"O-oh! Sorry! It's just... being that close to a human, it was really hard to hold back. I think it turned out really nice, though, right? He was really surprised and scared! That's the best of both worlds, I think!"

"No it isn't. That was nothing." Sekibanki gestured back toward the brush. "Hide. If you mess up another one, we're settling it with a duel the next time we meet."

"Oh. Um." Kogasa squirmed guiltily in place. "I'm sorry..."

"Just don't do it again."

With a quick nod. Kogasa hurried back into the underbrush.

They waited.

Kosuzu ran.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been running. She wasn't sure what time it was, or when she'd started. Everything had happened too fast for her to put much thought into it. She hadn't hesitated for long enough to do anything but grab a few items, put her boots on, and sprint out the door.

Now, she was deep into the woods, and the run was taking its toll on her. Her legs burned from exertion, her lungs ached for air, her glasses were fogged up, and the adrenaline high that had carried her this far was starting to fade. Worse, she was starting to realize just what a bad decision this was. She was pretty far from the village, with nothing but its lights visible behind her. She wouldn't have been able to see the Hakurei Shrine yet even if it were daytime. Which it decidedly wasn't.

She came to a stop and bent over, wheezing for air. While she was at it, she checked on her parcel. There, wrapped in a tablecloth, was everything that she'd thought to bring on this expedition—a table knife, an ink-smeared woodblock printing plate, and an omamori for Prosperity in Business that she'd taken from the shop's front door on her way out. The omamori wasn't much, but it was supposed to have a blessing on it, so she hoped it would do something to ward off youkai. It just needed to keep her in one piece until she could get to Reimu, and everything would work out. Things always did, once Reimu got involved.

Right, Reimu! This was the forest leading to the shrine, so it should be pretty safe, she decided. She just needed to push through this last kilometer or two. If she was lucky, maybe Reimu would even let her stay at the shrine until this whole business was resolved. Either way, the closer she got to the shrine, the safer she was. The only way to go was forward.

With her little heart filling with courage, Kosuzu took a deep breath to steady herself, then set off down the path.

The moon was bright tonight. She felt like she should have been grateful for the illumination, but in some ways, it only made things worse. It cast deep shadows, and she kept seeing movement in the corner of her eye.

A twig snapped in the woods to her right. Kosuzu froze, silent, and peered into the darkness. She uneasily convinced herself to move on.

She'd barely taken a full step before another, louder snap came from the forest.

"Hello...?" Kosuzu whispered into the darkness.

In response, something deep in the forest laughed—unsteadily, childishly, ethereally.

Kosuzu's heart felt like it was going to leap out of her chest. It was fairies, she tried to tell herself. Probably just fairies playing in the woods. If she actually saw them, the worst they could do was prank her.

She still stayed rooted to the spot for a good ten seconds before she moved again. When she did, she picked up her pace a bit more, with the parcel clasped tightly to her chest.

She wasn't outrunning whatever was after her, though. Thick fog rose from the ground, glowing a ghostly white in the moonlight. The light itself seemed wrong now, falling through the trees in just the right way to illuminate the entire world in jagged shards, like a broken mirror.

Kosuzu caught a glimpse of movement from the forest. This time, she couldn't convince herself she'd imagined it. She skidded to a stop and peered into the darkness. "I-I'm just going to the Hakurei shrine!" she said. "It's really important, s-so, um, Miss Reimu will probably be angry if you stop me!"

Something moved in the shadows again. Kosuzu had just enough time to realize that it was moving toward her before the object came into view.

Two red points of light, like dying embers, flared up in the darkness. As they approached, she saw that they were eyes. The thing was a head. Only a head. Emphatically just a head, since the neck was oozing blood in great, heavy gouts. The ghastly red eyes stared straight into her soul. It moaned, "Yoooouuuur heeeeeaaaad."

Kosuzu shrieked. Adrenaline surged through her veins. She leapt into motion and sprinted down the path. The pounding of her boots was impossibly loud in the silent night, but she could still hear the voice behind her. There were multiple now, a chorus, all the horrors in the world cooing and groaning and shrieking a single phrase: "Your heeeeead!"

The fog grew thicker, like a solid barrier at waist level. She almost tripped over an unseen rock, but didn't let it slow her down. Now, she could see movement on both sides of the road, dotted by the red lights of those glowing eyes. Occasionally, one of the heads would drift just close enough to catch the moonlight, letting her see it leering down at her as it moaned, "Your heeeeeeaaad!"

She rounded a corner. Now, the fog was so thick that she could barely see a few meters in front of her. She kept going, heart pounding in her ears and her lungs burning for air. Sheer mortal panic overrode both of those. She had to almost be within sight of the shrine, and as soon as she was close, she could shout for Reimu, and—

Kosuzu reached the end of the fog and sprinted into the open.

This section of the path was bathed in moonlight. It was easy to see the heads hovering to either side. They stared down at her, eyes glowing, with a grotesque expression on every face. They all chattered over each other, a discordant chorus, almost deafening: "Your head! Your head. Your heaaaad!"

Kosuzu ducked down and squeezed the parcel against her chest, barreling forward as fast as she could go.

Something rose from the shadows farther down the road, blocking the path.

She tried to skid to a stop, but her legs were weak from running for so long, and the ground was uneven. She tripped and was launched sprawling forward. Her parcel flew from her arms, tumbling down the path. Still, the heads continued moaning, "Your heaaad!"

She was already scrambling to her feet when the thing on the road moved closer, and she got a good look at it. It was a person. Or, well, most of one, at least. In the darkness, it was hard to make out any details but a billowing cape, but one thing was easy to see—their silhouette ended at the collar. There was no head on their shoulders.

"Your head!" the heads in the darkness all shrieked in unison.

The body lunged forward, stepping over Kosuzu's tablecloth-wrapped parcel, and thrust an accusing finger at her. From somewhere in the darkness, its voice boomed. "PERHAPS I SHALL ADD IT TO MY COLLECTION!"

Kosuzu squealed, a shriek of terror that threatened to grind her vocal cords to mush. She didn't even remember moving. One second, she was sprawled on the ground. The next, she was scrambling down the pathway, head down and tears streaming from her eyes. She didn't dare to look back until she was in the outskirts of the village.

"You see," Sekibanki said, as she settled her head back onto her neck. "Craftsmanship is important. Modern humans aren't going to be scared by something as simple as jumping out of the bushes and shouting, 'boo.'"

"It was really impressive!" Kogasa said, then hesitated, frowning in the direction of the retreating girl. "Don't you think it was a little mean, though...?"

Sekibanki shot her a withering expression. "We're youkai. If the humans knew that I lived in their village, they'd exterminate me without a second thought. This is only fair."

"Well, maybe... but maybe if you were nicer when you scared them, they'd be nicer to you, too!"

Sekibanki grunted in response. She did not sound convinced.

Only now did Kogasa notice something laying on the ground. She crouched down to take a look at it, her umbrella slung back over a shoulder. It was a cloth. Peeking out from inside its folds were a knife, a little cloth envelope, and a wooden rectangle, covered in carvings. "Oh... are these yours?"

"No."

"Oh! Oh no!" Kogasa scooped up the whole bundle and sprang to her feet.

"Miss!" she shouted down the pathway. "Miss, you dropped your book!"

"Not so loud!" Sekibanki hissed. "We're barely half a kilometer from the shrine! If the shrine maiden hears us, there will be hell to pay."

"She forgot her things, though..."

"Yes, well. I don't think she's going to be coming back." Sekibanki sounded very proud of this fact.

"Oh no! But they must have been really important to her, right?" Kogasa raised the bundle to display its contents, like she was showing off a cute puppy. "Don't you think she would have left them home otherwise?"

"Even if you catch up to her, I don't think she's going to listen to a youkai. Not tonight. I'd drop it if I were you."

"Oh! You mean like, drop her things here, so they're waiting for her if she comes back?"

"... no, drop the subject. Humans and youkai are enemies. We barely manage to get along, so there's no reason to give her things back. If they matter that much, she'll buy new ones."

That sounded almost as bad to Kogasa as just leaving the items here to rot, but she didn't think Sekibanki would understand. Nobody ever did. Instead, she wrapped the bundle back up and tied the ends. "Well... if you're sure."

"I am. And I think one scare is enough for me tonight, so I'm going home." Sekibanki turned to leave, but a few steps down the path, she hesitated and looked back over her shoulder. "I wouldn't mind giving you a few pointers sometime. But only if you're willing to dedicate yourself to improving."

"You would..." Happiness bubbled up in Kogasa's heart. She took a few hurried steps toward Sekibanki, beaming. "A-ah, of course! I'd love to!"

Sekibanki gave a single curt nod of acknowledgment and continued on her way. Kogasa hummed to herself as she prepared for her own trip home. Tonight, she was almost certain that she'd made a new friend. Any night where that happened could be much worse.