Thank you all for the follows, favourites and reviews. I know I've slowly been neglecting these shoutouts, but seriously, I'm so happy to know that I've been giving you guys something to look forward to.
However, to the one reviewer who's raised concern on this Fanfiction, YuukiAsuna-chan, I must apologise for not writing it up to your standard. I'm a writer who respects- maybe even adores- canon, especially if it adds some extra detail into the story. I'm also not interested in creating pairings of characters from different series. Although I am apologising, I must stand my ground on the stuff I've already written. If you're sticking to this fanfiction, I thank you for giving it a chance, but if not, then I hope you find something that aligns more to your tastes.
I... I really mean no disrespect here. If you read it that way... well, don't read it that way.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy this new chapter, guys. Thanks again for reading.
O - O - O - O
Kochiya Sanae, green-haired resident Shrine Maiden of the Moriya Shrine, grimaced and sweated nervous perspiration as she sat down with the self-proclaimed God in her home. In her position, she fidgeted as the building questions began to crack at her walls. Everything she had done to stop him from coming in had been to no avail, and all she could do now that he had made himself comfortable was either threaten them with danmaku- which didn't even cause a flinch when she declared the possibilities earlier- or exercise her self-control and listen to this strange being in outside world apparels. She did not remember anyone in Gensokyo wearing something like that, before, so whoever he was, she could not ascertain from appearance. She did consider the style of the Lunarians, which had made her first suspect him to be such, but on further investigation, the notion did not add up, at all. It was just a painfully British top hat and suit, not like anything in these closed-off lands.
And what was with that PFP!?
Katsuragi gave an unperturbed blink to soothe his eyes as he waited patiently for the Shrine Maiden to finish fretting over the amazing piece of gaming technology she had held between her fingers. So far, his plan to brute-force his way into his capture target's home was going as planned. The dress style he donned had properly shocked Sanae out of her more rambunctious self- that was, if canon would allow for it to be true here- and the effects had properly allowed him to introduce himself as an entity demanding full attention and respect. Fitting for a God. And the PFP only piled up the evidence that he was something much more modern. With all that on him as 'backstory' and 'narrative curiosity', he hoped it would stoke the residency's own curiosity.
It's rare for a galge to even tackle the prospects of making the Main Player Character a God…
But I have played tons of galge, and I have encountered these kinds. Playing God either grants you preposterous ways of 'forcing' events to happen between you and the heroine, but that usually works and happens if the heroine is of lower status, like a human or something. They usually never even find out you're a God until the ending. But dating God as God? That's preposterous, and rather hard to wrap your head around, but if you think about it, it can make things much simpler: the amount of energy and time you'd need to establish 'equal footing' is much lower due to how small that gap is. Not like a student to a teacher, or a worker and his boss.
With that in mind, and understanding the dynamics between the positional hierarchy of galge, I think the best place to start should be…
His eyes shifted to the corner, where one of the sliding doors began to inch itself open. There, he could see Komachi, peering in, ready to do whatever it took to keep this hagoromo-made suit and hat intact and stable. A part of him grew uncomfortable at the thought that he could see her, for when she sacrificed a part of her hagoromo to make his disguise, it had cut most of the hagoromo's effectiveness, and now instead of properly disappearing from the world of the visible, a very faint silhouette of her existed, alongside blurred details.
That was not the real issue, though. What if Kanako came in through that door? How was that Shinigami going to escape detection, then, hmm? Well, he supposed the shadows of the hallway would have made it pretty hard for most to notice her poorly-defined existence, but that didn't excuse the fact that she came in first, and still hadn't found a suitable spot to hide. How inefficient a worker, she was…
If she was found out, then he'd have to resort to lying about knowing her. Heck, in the best of the worst scenario, she'd be so ill-defined to the Moriya that they'd just think her a spirit from the Netherworld. Yes, that could work. Keima decided, it might just work.
"So… about Kanako…"
Sanae cut him off: "Why did you still come into the Shrine after you asked me to send a message to her?"
Keima puckered his lips at the unexpected question. "Ah… that was my… uh, part of a Manzai skit."
At the end of his sentence, he despaired, and had to stop himself from palming. Why did he say that?! Why did his memories of the Grand Prix come to him now!? Was he really still rusty with capturing, even after spending days interacting with the Enma?
"Oh… OH!" the Shrine Maiden, to his utter bewilderment, clapped both hands together in a sudden realization that flew over Keima's head. With renewed interest, and a big jump in her expressive gesturing, she leaned forward on the table and asked him, with pep in her tone, "You're here to ask her to join you for this year's Grand Prix!"
Keima deadpanned.
Eh…?
The Touhou Grand Prix exists…?
Oi, oi, oi, how much did the fanon create? Did they even make anything original, in the first place?
In any case, the boy quickly snapped awake from his deadly disbelieving trance. If he were to dwell in it, it would spell doom in this early family introduction. Kanako looked to be too far off in her moodiness for him to just approach her, so he considered Sanae to be the very tether that could- no, would, bring both of them together. If she had just gone to call her, that is, instead of sitting down with him to do whatever.
"That's not the point here," he pressed, his forceful tone pushing the Maiden back to her side of the table, "The point is I, the God of Conquest, am here to see for myself the presence of the Goddess Yasaka Kanako!"
"W-why?"
The turning point. Whatever he had planned, he made up in his head just moments before he entered the Shrine Grounds. He just hoped it would work.
"As a God…" His gaze hardened. Both hands laid down on his thighs. "I wish to offer my share of faith to her, as tribute."
Sanae's eyes began to widen.
Keima congratulated himself in the inside. That was the reaction he was looking for, and so, spurred by the sight, in accordance to his script, he bowed in respec-
Sanae's wide eyes narrowed into squints when he collided with the table.
Keima shuffled slightly further from the table, till, finally, he was able to bow in perfect form.
She didn't know which part was the skit.
"P-please, call Yasaka out, so we can discuss in further details my amazing proposition."
"E-er…" She hesitated to answer. "M-maybe… can you please come back another time? I… I don't think the Goddess of this Shrine is ready to see people, today…" It was a tempting offer, certainly, but Sanae found herself worried over whether or not this so-called 'God's' personality would rub Kanako any way that wasn't 'aggravating', and if said offer even worked, at all. Sure, she was a living God, in strict sense, but she hadn't heard of such a ritual before. In all honesty, she felt rather regretful turning away something that, if real, would actually make her Goddess's day, but it was the safest option. Kanako was rather grumpy, even after her fast, and if it wasn't a normal, everyday worshipper with a sane mind, then she didn't know what to expect.
The 'God', though, did not budge.
"Then I shall wait here for her," he answered in a mutter, straightening himself back up. "My PFP, please."
Sanae grimaced. "You're not easy to convince, huh?"
Someone who's relegated to support cast should be easily swayed by me, unless, of course, there is no window of options for me to choose.
"What do you think?" Keima replied, as his fingers, oblivious to the absence of his hat, combed back his hair, "I have encountered a million dialogue options, failed countless, and succeeded countless more. Besides, I'm here to convince a fellow God, so don't think that I didn't come prepared."
"D-dialogue options?" Sanae parroted through perplexed lips, "Wait, what kind of God are you? 'God of Conquest'… doesn't that make you a God of War? I don't remember any modern Gods popping up from the Outside World…"
Keima squinted his eyes, seeming incredulous at the question. With a tone that should have never been inquired, he answered dismissively, "I am but the God of Games."
Sanae wished she had drunk tea for the added bedazzlement of when she spat it all around the room upon hearing the outrageous declaration.
Actually, she could do that now~
The shrine maiden, much to Keima's bemusement, swiped the tea cup she had offered him off the table, and drank it all in one gulp. Then, to his even more amazed confusion, she spat it all out to the corner. Komachi's silhouette had nary a second to dodge the incoming pitter patter, because the Shinigami jumped back in sheer horror right before the projectiles grazed her clothing.
The tea cup slammed the table. Sanae shot up from her seat.
"Wait, wait, wait, WHAT?! A-a God of Games!? HOW!?"
"W-what?" Keima questioned back, rather shaken by the outburst, "I was sure the PFP would've clued you in on that?"
The shrine maiden began to panic. She started fretting, thrashing her arms like a scared, lost bird, and in record time made a mess of herself and her part of the house as she tried her hardest to make sense of it all. "H-how did games become so… so coveted!? I thought they were just a fad, a-a stupid little thing only kids played! A-a God, of G-G-Games!? T-that would mean-!? Worshippers!? Actual ADULTS!? G-Gundam!? No, I like Gundam, that's cool, b-but Games!? That's just so STUPID!!!"
"I'm right here, you know?"
Her gohei snapped a glare of its barrel back.
"C-can't be-!?"
Ah, Sanae has gone off the deep end. That was not what he expected her to do.
"There's no way video games can suddenly have a God: they're toys; for kids! A-and for Outside World technology and science to have a God, t-that's just unheard of!"
Keima pouted in response to her accusations. Not only were her words totally untrue and stereotypical, but her reactions were making the possibilities that he was going to raise her flag first rather than Kanako's much higher. He couldn't let the romance happen with the beginning intermediary! That would complicate EVERYTHING!
Either Kanako gets here, NOW, or this damn Player 2's gonna ruin the first introduction!
"Look, Shrine Maiden," he began, this time with authoritative firmness in his voice, "I don't want to waste your, or my time, so please call her out so I can make the proposal!"
"G-God of Games~! God of Games! Eheheheheh~ Impossible, impossible~!"
HEY! How hard was it for her to believe something like the God of Games existed? Weren't Touhou's definition of Gods rather loose and freeform? You could basically worship someone to Godhood, right!?
And stop holding my PFP HOSTAGE!
Keima waved a glancing bit of his attention to where Komachi was hiding. She was still there, clandestine as ever with that scythe of hers, but, with the unfolding situation, he needed her to act. If Kochiya wasn't willing to help, then he needed the Shinigami to initiate Plan B.
Komachi groaned at the recognizable sign he gestured to her. No, she wasn't maddened by the fact that she had to work- in fact, that was only a small annoyance in the grand scheme of things. Instead, she shared sympathies with him over the annoying Shrine Maiden's delusional panic, having never fully come to the comprehension that she could be this hard to work with. She pushed herself off her spot, and began looking for the Goddess. By instructions, she was supposed to find Kanako, lure her out and make her come into the room he was in to 'initiate' whatever droning concept he had planned. It was going to be easy, she assured herself. That Katsuragi boy had it all under control, and as long as she didn't knock anything down with her scythe, she was basically undetectable unless someone squinted. Besides, how far could Kanako be from her, anyways? The shrine couldn't be that big.
One stride forward.
And then Yasaka Kanako lumbered past her side.
What she felt like a blur passing her made Komachi stop. Surprise couldn't even begin to explain the startlement she felt, for it was so strong that she almost jumped and crashed into a wall by accident. The God of the Shrine was coming! And she didn't even have to make a single sound to coax her out of whatever she was in. In all honesty, she couldn't wait for her buddy to later praise her for her speedy execution, even if she hadn't done anything of the sort. Respect and thanks are very tantalizing dishes, after all. But that wasn't the main focus now; she had to see what was to unfold next, if, not from morbid curiosity, but inward evaluation, and perhaps the want to participate and contribute. Besides, it wasn't anything that strenuous. She could accept a job that didn't need her to ferry people 24/7.
Keima, on the other hand, found himself much less amused and instead forever grateful for the sudden blasting of the door. Still, he couldn't help but glue his eyes on the figure entering the room. Pushing the shoji out of her way, Kanako revealed her nonplussed, dark face to the room. Her shimenawa and mirror were absent, but her presence still spurred his hairs up, nonetheless. A little bulb of fear popped up in his stomach:
She looked upset. She looked very upset.
The Shrine Maiden's gohei slipped off her grip. Immediately she jumped to her Goddess, ready to speak anything that could calm her, but before she could even say a word, Kanako shot an agitated and silencing glance at her.
"Sanae…"
Kanako grunted in a low, hoarse voice, a far cry from her opera. She stopped for a second when a strand of hair fell near her eyes, which she lazily blew aside, "Stop it with the ruckus. Didn't I tell you I was retiring for the day?"
"B-but, Miss Kanako, s-someone's here, and no matter what I say-!"
Kanako turned her weary attention to the stranger. Her leer forced a jump from him, and she could only dwell further in annoyance at his meek display. She strutted towards him, and once her shadow loomed over the now-scurrying visitor, she asked coarsely, leaning further down with every word, "Are you here to offer faith or… something worth far less? Do it outside: I'm not in the mood for kissed feet or anything like that."
But then, as their exhaled breaths intertwined, and her lingering glare began taking effect, she noticed his clothes, their very distinct designs calling back to those strange years in Sino-Western history. She rubbed her eyes, but did not rub the supposed illusion away- they were real, modern clothes in Gensokyo.
And then the PFP sandwiched between Sanae's hands dawned in her consciousness. She quickly snapped her gaze back to him.
"Who…" she muttered, slow, deliberate, "Are you?"
Sanae answered her conundrum before he could: "H-he says he's a God of Games, a-and that he's here to meet you."
Kanako squeezed out an incredulous look through her squinting eyes and zipped lips.
God of Games? Huh?
What was this about?
A God?
Him?
This visitor that gave off not even an ounce of the essence of divinity?
Oh, Sanae, what hath thou become? To be so easily convinced by some Outsider… Was it the clothes he seemed to have found from that shop near the Forest of Magic? Or perhaps the electronic doodad that this strange fellow had come to incorporate into his disguise? No matter the reason, Sanae really made a fool out of herself. Perhaps some education at a later date should do enough to teach her of false deities. Now that she thought about it, it would do her health some good if she would also kick this impersonator out of the shrine by now.
Kanako cracked her neck, liberating the ache it held, before she ordered her Shrine Maiden to escort him out. There was no need for her to partake in any of this nonsense. She might as well sleep and recuperate for her more 'important' affairs to come.
She had barely poked a toe out the door when the tug of his hand on her shoulder was made apparent to her nerves.
"My fellow God, please, listen to my request."
Kanako, dreading the appearance of that pitiful existence, turned around in creaking motion. Sure enough, the blasted man was right behind her, a pushed and panicking Sanae in the wake of his original location and now.
"Guh," she balked through her teeth, "Fellow God? You aren't even one, and still you think I would listen to you?"
"Please, listen to my story!" His arm dislodged from her shoulder, allowing his expressiveness in the form of his gesticulations to shine. "I AM a God, born of the world's love for games, but something happened, and I'm now here, in Gensokyo. I was looking for some place to stay, really, so- "
"A place to stay?" She jeered with a look of genuine disgust in her face, "Why here, then? Why not the Human Village, the Hakurei Shrine, Myouren Temple, hmm? If I remember correctly, the damn red Mansion has a vacancy- why not humour them instead?"
"That…" Oh, look at the coyness of this false deity, how he looked all shy from whatever he was going to say to her. She didn't have time for this, just say it.
"That is because I've heard of you outside of Gensokyo."
Yasaka Kanako froze. Her entire body tensed. Her head tilted as the curiosity built inside her.
"You've…," her gaze hardened, yet her frown tumbled the other direction, "Heard of me?"
"Y-yes, of your stories in Suwa, and-"
An open palm stopped him. Kanako, still wary of him, began to chuckle to herself as interest grew for his storytelling. Sanae, watching the sudden change in her Goddess's behavior, gawked.
After a short rubbing of the chin, the blue-haired Goddess began to smile. Keima furrowed his brow at the sight, but before he could act, she said to him, "It's not a good idea to tell stories like yours standing up." A quick glance at the table. "Come, I suppose I have the time to listen to whatever you say. I'll deal with your lie later."
Keima's lips curled upwards in return.
Sanae's jaw crashed to the ground.
Komachi silently chuckled with newfound excitement.
A strange reaction, seeing how the one most eager to watch had been the one who had considered lobbing the God's head off just two days ago. The Shinigami couldn't wait, though. Some subconscious part of her, a sliver of her psyche that had found itself acclimated to that Katsuragi's impossible dealings, had arisen to watch the ordeal unfold. To actually bear witness to a trickery well-made enough to convince even a God like Kanako, now that sounded almost honorable, to some extent, and it was enough to sell her the ticket.
When the two finally sat down, Keima began his meticulous lie, or, as he'd like to call it, his 'main character bio'.
His name.
Godly affiliations (appropriate for the context).
His visits and fascinations with Nagano Prefecture and its past.
And, for the best nail on this square-shaped coffin in which he would finally make her, the Goddess Kanako, stick to him: his love for the ballad of Yasaka Kanako, and his search for her after her sudden disappearance.
In galge games, the main character's 'listing-type' introduction, mixed with little backstory, can be the fastest way for the main character to get himself associated and into the heroine's niche group. This usually works best for girls who've never met you, and are interested: Kanako here is in the best mindset to receive my introduction. I've purposely made myself interesting to her and her alone- though through different means. It was supposed to be the clothes, but I'm guessing she isn't impressed- and, through this interest, I can get closer to her with just simple words alone!
With this, the entire thing might as well be at a whopping 20% completion!
"And that's why," Keima's hands palmed the table, "I'm here today. My search is complete, and I now only wish to bask in your glory~"
"Ohohoho~" the incredibly merry Kanako guffawed as she pointed her haughty nose to the air, waving a token dismissal to him at the same time, "My, my, Mister Katsuragi, I had always presumed that Gods of the modern era would've been more bratty and unappreciative of their forefathers, but you are clearly nothing of the sort! In fact, you're a breath of fresh air! You must really love me for you to come to Gensokyo just to find me, hmm?"
How interesting, that a God could be so blind as to consider him one and the same, forgetting that she had sensed no divine energy or presence in her converser just moments ago. In just under half an hour, Keima had, in the most essential terms, swooned her with his words. Still, it didn't mean putting down the sword: it just meant he had to drive the point deeper, so deep it'd take surgical precision to relinquish it from its fleshy tomb.
"No, no," he chuckled, mimicking her pose in the process, "It's just respect~ You're my idol, and I hold your exploits dearly in my heart~"
"Hahah~ If I'd say so myself, I'd think you were here for my hand~"
Sanae, sitting adjacent to them and keeping herself quiet and in disbelief, felt her eyes balloon wide at the thought.
Her hand? Hand in marriage!? HUUUUUUUUH!?!?
"L-Lady K-Kanako, don't joke over something like that so l-lightly!" She chided, but to no avail as a Carolina hand slammed her in the back.
"Come on, Sanae, can't you let an elderly God have a bit of fun with this guy? I particularly like his stories of me."
"Oh, Miss Kanako," Keima interrupted, much to her joy.
"Yes, yes~ Any more praises coming my way?"
"N-no, I was just- oh wait, I love your style of wear~ So captivating~ What's your secret?"
"Hahahahah!" the Goddess tipped backwards from her chortle, "No secret, just years of practicing gathering faith with this impressive stature of mine! The charisma is an acquired attribute, you see, Mister Katsuragi!" For a fleeting moment she turned to her Shrine Maiden to give her some well-deserved snark, "See, Sanae, he's a swell fellow! He can stay here for as long as he pleases! Go and fix up the spare room later, if you may?"
"Ah, about that!" Keima once again interrupted, "I'm interested in discussing the real reason I came."
"Eh?" the Goddess raised a quizzical brow, "Isn't it so that you could stay here until we get you out of Gensokyo? Not that I'd like the idea: having another God look up to me feels very nice and refreshing." She shook the thought away. Collecting herself, Kanako beckoned, "So tell me your 'real' reason. Don't worry, I'm in a much better mood."
"Well…" Keima's hands began their act of twirling themselves in a dance of sheepishness. "I was wondering if, well, there was a ritual where we could share the faiths of our followers together?"
In all honesty, Keima had no idea the context it meant for real Gods and Goddesses. In a normal scenario, he would have been asking for her to train him, following a route he had gone through with Kusunoki a year back, but here, because of his strict timing, and his stronger focus on speedrunning through his captures, all his more conservative ideas had little room to work.
It was a simple notion: by placing himself in an equal playing field- i.e. by implying his status to be equal to hers- he had hoped that it would decrease the length of time needed for the capture to succeed. Of course, in Kanako's case, the rigid timetable, involving dealings with the Tengu and whatnot, had made it much more complicated, and there was no telling whether or not his romantics would even bear fruit, supposing if he could help her with the Tengu problem and rid of her spirit that way, but he could not continue his meaningless doubt. He had to play both the romantic and problem-solving neutral route at the same time, if only so that the former could be salvaged if the latter sunk.
So came the first timeskip. 'Share our faiths' would imply equal status, and perhaps equal power, skipping all the 'please teach me, Kanako-sensei' foreplay, and shaving off all the time those events would entail. Besides, she hungered for faith in both canonical and fanon works, so why wouldn't she, now? The deal was just too enticing for her to decline! It would bring them closer and guarantee that he had some say in the matter!
Keima, though, began to frown, rather than smile.
Something was off. He could feel it.
The silence had been three seconds longer than he would have liked. Was this hesitation on her part? Impossible: it was an infallible request! Looking up from his fingers, he-
Kanako flatlined.
Her eyelids were twitching. Her full smile crumpled into that of an open gawk. Her gesticulating hands levitated in perpetual mid-air freeze.
Komachi leaned closer to see what was going on.
Sanae looked back and forth, confused panic in her eyes.
And Keima? Well…
W-what did I say?
Hands sweaty, pupils quaking. Stomach knotting.
WHAT DID I SAY!?
Time tiptoed by.
He couldn't take his eyes off her soul-piercing ones.
He'd... made a mistake? What? How? That response should've at least done something positive in this pursues route, so what changed? Where did he go wrong? Did he... no, perhaps he did rush? If that were the case, then he had to fix it! Back-pedal, go into damage-control, everything to steady this capture as much as possible, but, Keima realised too late, what was he to do first in this situation?
"I-"
Keima gave a great start. Kanako had begun to stir from her paralysis, and the escaping 'I' had him tensed and preparing for what unknown reaction was to come.
"I respectfully decline."
She finished her answer, flattest voice and denying hand accompanying it as it traveled through the air and into the ears of all four participants. Without sparing a second for the frozen God to answer, Kanako pushed herself off the ground, and shuffled out the door she had originally came through.
And just like that, the God of the Moriya Shrine disappeared from the collective consciousness.
Sanae, whose gaze followed her out the door, turned back to Katsuragi, herself so confounded by the sight she had seen that she couldn't even speak. What she saw made her sympathies increase to the max. She couldn't believe it, but his fish-lipped gawk, that caricature-looking face he was displaying right now, said everything. In fact, it was so good at conveying its message that she might as well don it as well.
And so, the two Outside World teenagers fish-lipped-gawked the minute away.
