This story is an experiment more than anything else. Creating a Touhou OC without resorting to "GENERIC OUTSIDER WITH HIDDEN POWERS GETS GAPPED IN" was harder than expected; hopefully the scenario that unfolds here is believable. If everything else about my story is a virtual trainwreck, well, at least my character is nothing like me! Hehe.

The dialogue style in this chapter was fun to write. Maybe not so fun to read. Let me know and I'll adjust accordingly.

Spoiler: the prologue is really damn boring.

Prologue, Part I

Quantum Theory

On a cold December night in 1916, the rooms of the Yakumo household were unlit. With one exception.

In her study, Yukari stared blankly down at her handiwork, either in awe or in disbelief.

It was done. After five hundred and twelve years, it was finally done.

Precisely aleph-zero pages long yet conveniently compacted into the space of a small novel, the Book of Absolute Physical States—a pretentious name, Yukari admitted—was quite the dangerous addition to her arsenal. At first glance, it appeared as innocuous as a typical violet hardcover (because yes, it looked exactly like one). However, upon opening it...

Yukari scanned the first page, observing the glowing runes haphazardly partitioned, some intersected, by innumerable lines. Some of the runes were clear and sharp, representing known and definite states. Others were blurred and amorphous, designating circumstances and conditions yet undetermined. As for the lines, well, she had no idea, but she suspected they divided space in some way.

She wasn't willing to dive too deeply into experimentation, though. Tampering with anything could have...unpleasant ramifications. One of the signs, however, she knew to be relatively risk-free. Channeling power into the top-leftmost character, a tiny perfect circle, she watched it fragment into tiny arcs.

You did not read that sentence wrong.

The shattering of her wooden desk (she didn't even know wood could shatter) startled her out of her mesmerized state, and she quickly conjured a gap under the book to catch it before it fell to the ground.

"Mistress Yukari!" She heard a frightened Ran call out from a distant part of the residence. "Was that you?"

For the moment, Yukari ignored her shikigami. What would happen if she moved the circle back into place...?

She smiled to herself as the pieces reassembled themselves into the original worktable.

It made total sense. The first symbol corresponded to the nearest object.

Functionally, everything was fine. Now all she needed to do was find someone capable of operating this device for her.

...Yukari frowned. She should have seen this issue coming.

"I don't need to calculate the odds of someone knowing how to use an abstract text you created yourself." Ran sipped her tea before continuing. "You know this. Either you or I must eventually learn how to use it, and that necessitates meddling with it."

By Yukari's request, Ran had joined her at breakfast. Not that the kitsune didn't usually dine with her master; the invitation was more to imply a matter of utmost importance.

Yukari sighed. "Even in Gensokyo?"

Ran tilted her head. "Hm?"

"Even here, where most humans, let alone youkai, are uniquely capable of feats the Outside World can only dream of, no one can handle something as ordinary as a book?"

"With all due respect, Mistress," Ran began carefully, "you are as aware of the ridiculousness of that question as I am."

Normally, Yukari would lightly scold her for such impertinence. However, Ran was correct in this instance. "I suppose."

A period of silence followed, with no activity other than the occasional twitch of Ran's tails.

"Do you have any reason to believe that someone does understand your creation?" Ran inquired.

Yukari laughed hollowly. "Not at all. Forgive me. It was wishful thinking on my part." She stroked her chin, deep in thought. "...Ran?"

"Yes?"

"Can you calculate the odds of someone learning how to use the Book more easily than we could?"

Ran looked at her in confusion. "Why? Even if such an individual existed, she—"

"Or he."

"—Or he would still need trial and error to—"

Yukari cut her off. "I'm aware. However, less blind stumbling would lower the risk of catastrophe."

"Not by enough," Ran countered. "It's all too easy for something to go wrong."

"A couple of guesses wouldn't be too bad. Easily fixable."

"How would you know?"

Ran received no reply.

She sighed. "I don't know, Mistress..."

"To hell with the easy methods, then," Yukari concluded. "I do have one more idea, one I've had for a while."

Ran looked askance at her. "Is it absurd?" she asked brusquely.

Yukari slumped. "Unfortunately so. However! If we are meticulous and lucky, it can work."

"Oh, that's good. I was worried we would need the assistance of some obscure pantheon. Again."

"Hush, you. I haven't called on them since. Besides, I only did it the first time for fun."

"'Fun'," Ran repeated with air quotes. "Anyway, continue. What is this plan of yours?"

"We need someone tailor-made for specifically this purpose. I agree with you: trying to find that person in Gensokyo would be akin to looking for a Model T in the Sahara Desert; it doesn't make sense to even expect it."

"I don't quite understand what you're getting at."

"There is only one entity that knows the Book's secrets."

Ran quirked her eyebrow. "That being...?"

"The Book itself, of course." Yukari smirked. "Do you see what I mean?"

A wary shaking of the head was her shikigami's response.

"Suppose we could communicate with the Book to have it manipulate itself. Let it make decisions. Make it intelligent...sentient, even."

"That sounds awfully far-fetched."

"Does it now? Inanimate objects becoming sentient? Think about it."

Slowly, realization crept onto Ran's face. "B-but that's—"

"Lateral thinking? Certainly. Preposterous? To some extent. But it's ingenious, is it not?"

The two pondered this idea, more than enough food for thought. Ironically, the physical food remained untouched.

"...So," Ran said, "Leave it there for a hundred years? Is that your entire scheme?"

Yukari shook her head. "There's no telling what the Book will do in its first moments of life, so we need to give it knowledge and self-control to start with. Similar to what I did to you when you became my shikigami, except much less extensively. We'll need to prepare a ritual, perhaps several."

"There's the obvious problem that the Book technically isn't alive yet," Ran pointed out. "How do we convey information to an inanimate object?"

"There are ways," Yukari responded simply. "Which you and I will have to research."

Ran nodded. "Also, tsukumogami generally dislike their owners, do they not?"

"Only if they were mistreated during their years of service," Yukari clarified. "But yes, we should demonstrate care." She paused. "Is that all?"

Truthfully, Ran still had doubts about this whole plan. From her perspective, her master always threw caution to the wind and practically ignored risk vs. reward. So far, Yukari had been relatively successful, but when would her cunning and luck run out?

Yet Ran did not speak her mind. "Yes. I have no further questions at this time."

"Good." Yukari gestured to the plates. "Then let us eat."

Thirteen years passed.

"Are you ready? We can afford no mistakes."

"Readier than ever, Mistress."

Yukari looked down at the mess of papers, ink-written kanji, and obscure materials cluttering the room. In the center of the room was the Book, still untouched atop her desk. Around it she'd drawn two concentric circles: a small one on the desk itself and a larger one on the floor. Both had elaborate, rotationally symmetrical patterns on their border. Two diametrically opposite squares—one close to the window, the other (probably) under the dead cherry blossoms and ancient scripts near the door—marked where she and Ran would stand.

The first rite wasn't particularly complicated—twenty-three spells over the course of two hours was nothing compared to what she'd need to do in the future—but it was arguably the most important. Failing to immediately establish a good connection to the target, be it human, youkai, or (in this case) inanimate object, often permanently prevented compatibility. First impressions mattered, after all, even when dealing with the arcane.

"You know the precise routine?"

Ran rolled her eyes. "No offense, but you've made me practice this for the past two years. I'd hope I know it by now."

"Just making sure, dear." Yukari exhaled deeply. "Well, let's get to it then, shall we?"

Twenty-nine years passed.

"Humans are monstrous, aren't they?" Yukari murmured.

Through the gap that Yukari had conjured, Ran stared wide-eyed at what used to be a bustling city. "Dear lord..."

"If anyone survived the blast, the radiation will probably kill them off before long." Yukari closed her eyes. "We're truly in the modern age; this is the last spiritual sanctuary. Expect more youkai to show up soon."

"That could be a problem," Ran said. "We're already over 70 percent of our maximum capacity. And if my estimations are anywhere near correct, Japanese youkai alone will at least double our current population. Combine that with expected population growth and the possible arrival of our European counterparts who've just heard of Gensokyo, and...well, you have some decisions to make about who you want here."

Yukari shook her head. "There will be no decisions. We will accept any and every youkai."

"But how?" Ran questioned. "You are promising the impossible."

"You forget that I was the one who made the Barrier to begin with, and that most of my power is locked inside it, keeping it functional. I could easily make a larger one—"

"But that's suicidal," Ran interjected. "Even maintaining this barrier is, by your own admission, taxing. How weak will you become?"

Yukari laughed. "You underestimate your Mistress, Ran. Even now, I am still stronger than I was centuries ago. During the failed invasion of the Moon, for instance. I will manage."

"Will you?"

There was a long silence.

"Somehow, I suppose."

Sixty-seven years passed.

Yukari and Ran had performed the second, third, and fourth rites without a hitch; the energy siphoned by the enlarged Great Hakurei Barrier had not slowed the former down by much. Already they'd installed, so to speak, basic knowledge about Gensokyo's geography and history, simple personality characteristics (formality with a dash of mischievousness when called for), and some physical traits. Specifically, Yukari had decided on a 6'4", black-haired male. With raven wings.

"Why?" Ran had asked.

"Aesthetics," Yukari replied, a grin on her face. "Besides, a generic human male is too boring, no? For the sake of the story, just humor me."

So Ran did, and everything went smoothly.

However, one point to bear in mind. In keeping with the times, let's use a programming analogy: asking a computer to obtain, retain, or display information? Relatively straightforward. Asking it to think and act based on that information? Infinitely more difficult.

Hence why the fifth ritual, implementing logic, reason, and sentience, spanned most of the house. The scattered tall glass conduits, metal constructs, miscellaneous substances, painstakingly handwritten sigils, complicated markings, and absolutely ungodly number of parchment sheets all over the place left little room to maneuver. Between these spell components and relocated objects such as furniture, nary a square inch of floor space was spared.

Yukari couldn't recall the last time she felt as nervous and—dare she say it—fearful as she did now. She'd expected the Moon invasion to fall through, so she had no pressure. As for the Great Hakurei Barrier, she could have remade it if her first attempt had flaws; indeed, she ended up doing so. Here, she didn't have either luxury. Botching even the most trivial step could result in anything from no results whatsoever to creating a vengeful entity. And if the Book worked as intended, she definitely did not want the latter.

Still, she was confident in herself. Eleven years of planning tended to instill such a belief.

"You know your part," Yukari told Ran. She did not ask.

"I do," Ran answered. "I hope that I do not run into you when moving between rooms."

"I as well." Yukari took one last look around her study and at her creation, the same as ever, before beckoning Ran to follow her. "Come along."

Eighty-one years passed.

"Hmm..." Ran examined the various suits on display. "Outside world fashion is fairly sophisticated. And foreign."

"We're in Venice, Ran. I would be shocked if they sold yukatas. I believe this particular style of clothing is called a tuxedo." Yukari plucked it off the rack. "Named after a high-class American locale, if memory serves me correctly."

"It looks quite elegant," Ran commented. She held up the other items they'd picked up. "And it's to be worn with...what is this?"

"That's a dress shirt and black pants, Ran."

Ran dropped said articles of clothing back into the bag. "My bad. I meant this."

"Oh. That's a tie. The modern cravat."

"...I don't know what that is either."

Yukari giggled. "You didn't read that French history book I bought, did you?"

Ran hung her head in shame. "Sorry."

"It's alright, dear." Marching up to the cashier, Yukari plopped down her purchases-to-be, quickly switching her language to Italian (yes, she can do that) at the same time. "I'll take these."

The man at the register looked down at what she'd bought. "Ma'am, are you sure you want these?"

"Of course."

"They're—" He coughed awkwardly. "They're not your size. Or gender."

Yukari blinked. "Oh, I'm buying these for a friend."

"Ah!" The man seemed simultaneously embarrassed and relieved. "My apologies."

Eighty-four years passed.

Ran smacked the bulge in the center of the bed with a pillow. "Wake up, Mistress Yukari!"

She received a most unrefined whine in reply. "Five minutes, Ran, pleeeeeeeeeeease..."

"It's the new millenium!" Ran yelled. "Aren't you excited?"

"Only by the Outside World calendar..."

Ran groaned. "Fine. It's a new year."

"Now that's something I do care about."

"So are you going to get up?"

"No."

Ran facepalmed. "Are you aware of what time it is?"

"It's...11:36. In the morning."

"I'm about to prepare lunch. Besides, you mentioned something about a ceremony in the afternoon."

"What are you—Oh." Yukari suddenly sat up, eyes bleary and hair a total mess. "It is today."

"You never told me what 'it' was," Ran said as she turned to leave, "But at least you're awake."

"A quick lunch will do, Ran. I need some time."

Ran stopped. "What for?"

"Nyoko was expecting a daughter this afternoon. And you know the Hakurei maidens are almost always precisely correct concerning such matters."

"Ah. What's her name?"

Yukari smiled sleepily. "That's what I have to help her decide. I need to come up with suggestions by the time I arrive."

Four hours more passed.

"She's beautiful," Ran whispered.

Nyoko smiled up at her from her bed, cradling the softly crying newborn in her arms. "She is, isn't she?"

"Quiet, too," the doctor, adjusting his glasses, noted. "She will be a wonderful successor, I am sure. And yes, no obvious defects or deficiencies."

The shrine maiden nodded. "Thank you." Then, turning to Yukari, she asked, "So, what do you think?"

"Hmm..." Yukari examined the child closely. "Stubborn, dedicated, powerful. More so than even you."

"She's special, no doubt," Ran affirmed.

"And so she must have a special name. How about..." Yukari smirked. She'd decided before she'd even arrived. "...Reimu? Reimu Hakurei."

One hundred years passed.

One hundred years, and the book had not moved an inch.

One hundred years, and the book had not been touched.

Today, in the darkness of Yukari's study, it trembled.

Just outside in the hall, Ran gasped. "Did you hear that?" she whispered to Yukari.

"Yes. Give it a minute—wait." Yukari listened intently. "It wants water. Can you fetch a glass?"

Ran wordlessly handed her a bottle.

"...Good thinking." She knocked twice. "May we come in?"

The door swung open. "But of course," was the man's raspy reply.

"Here. Your water." Noticing Ran's intense blush, she chuckled. "Oh, right. I'll get you your clothes, too."

Please do leave reviews. Advice is worth its...weight...in gold...

Shit, that idiom doesn't really apply here, does it?