Marisa Kirisame woke to knocking at her door, and she was quick to wake.

Koishi was already up, standing by the bedside. Marisa was quick to hop out of bed – the moment her mind was awake, she knew what was happening.

It was still dark out. It hadn't been long.

She went to answer the door, and, as she thought, found one Sakuya Izayoi waiting politely on the other side.

"Heya," she said, not entirely sure how much sleep she was on. She was on the tired side, at least.

Sakuya gave a small nod. "The young mistress would see you now, if you are willing."

"We're willing," said Koishi, staring right at Sakuya. If Marisa hadn't been fully awake before, the anxiety and focus that Koishi immediately gave off meant she was now.

"Yeah," said Marisa, running without word to grab her proper attire. "Whenever you're ready," she added, a couple seconds later.

"Very well. If you don't mind staying near me," Sakuya said, her tone as even as ever, "it will be quicker."

Marisa nodded. "Alright. Lead the way."

And, wordlessly, the maid did. It was difficult to tell with certainty, but it seemed that little pieces of her professionalism had given way to focus.

It wasn't hard to see why. There was no subtlety to the fact that the world's clock had stopped. Marisa followed the maid, and Koishi followed Marisa, in turn. Until now, Marisa hadn't known Sakuya had the capability to share her powers.

The world was dark. Around Sakuya, the ordinary night could be seen clearly – simply as if it were frozen in place. Beyond that, the world lost color, and then lost light altogether, giving way to a solid darkness.

Everything was utterly silent. No sound travelled across stolen time. Marisa couldn't help but wonder how much more disconcerting this would be in good light.

Koishi took Marisa's hand. The satori was quite unsettled – this world was frozen and without life, dark and without sound, and it was not the world she was used to. Marisa, on the other hand, was still safe.

"It's alright. Time would probably just come back for us if we went out, anyway." said Marisa.

"It would, yes," said Sakuya. Marisa, watching as she often did, noted that the maid's tone seemed a little less measured. This was probably difficult, for her. "I assure you, this is no danger to you."

"I don't like frozen time," said Koishi. "It's…" she shook her head.

Reminds you how close the past feels, yeah?

Koishi nodded. Marisa dragged her a little closer, and then picked her up. "It'll be alright. It won't be too long."

The feelings of anxiety in the air seemed to lessen a little, and that was helpful to Marisa, in turn.

And so, they went on. It was hard to figure out where they were, but Marisa had no doubt that Sakuya knew the way.

A few moments later, Sakuya stopped, and they were before the mansion – although it was mostly masked in darkness. She opened the gate – Meiling was nowhere to be seen – and lead them in.

The basement was quite remarkably close to the mansion's entrance, and that was doubtless Sakuya's work.

And then, time resumed. Color returned to the world. Sakuya let out a small sigh – which was beyond unusual. Carrying others through frozen time, thought Marisa, was likely quite difficult.

Koishi breathed a sigh of relief, and Marisa couldn't help but smile a little.

"Young Mistress?" Called Sakuya, hardly waiting before going on. "Your guests are here."

Flandre didn't respond, but Koishi noticed her.

The vampire sat in a corner, carving aimlessly at the floor.

"Heya," said Marisa, already walking over. She wasn't one for waiting, times like these. "You wanted to see us already?"

Flandre looked up, and it was hard to properly read her expression; there were too many mixed feelings. She was sad and upset – she also looked almost desperate. There was hope, there, and after centuries, she had no idea what to do with it.

"…Yeah." She drew another line in the stone floor.

"Well, do you wanna play?" Marisa walked a little further, watching Flandre.

She shifted away when Marisa approached… and then shifted back. Marisa took a seat beside her.

"…no." She frowned. "Still too dangerous." And then, quieter, "too scary."

It was a little painful to see Flandre like this – devoid of excitement or movement where she usually embodied both.

It was more than a little painful, Marisa thought, for Koishi. Koishi, who strode over to the vampire without hesitation.

The satori sat down in front of Flandre, and… closed her eyes. She was focusing, and Marisa knew this was difficult for her – vibes of frustration and effort occurred in the witch's own mind as she did.

But Flandre responded. Her eyes widened, and then she stood.

She took a step back. Koishi opened her own eyes, and stepped forward. "It's… okay," she said, still sounding a little strained. "It's okay, like this. It's safe."

Flandre raised one hand… and then lowered it. She was shaking.

And then, Koishi pulled her into a hug, and she didn't resist.

After some time, Flandre returned the hug. She was still shaking – she was still afraid.

Koishi smiled. "It'll get better, okay? Even if it's hard now. I can help you."

Koishi was afraid too. Marisa could feel it. She was afraid that she couldn't help, that she'd hit her limit early, that this was all she could do.

And even so, she was smiling. She was unmoving, unwilling to worry about those doubts, now. She wanted to help more than anything could possibly dissuade her.

And I'm behind you, all the way.

Finally, the two let go. Flandre was, again, crying, although it was quiet – tears without sobbing. "I feel… strange," she said, her voice now quite uneven.

"I can hold it back," said Koishi. "Because it's not you. It's not what I see, so… I can let you feel that, instead. I can help you feel that."

Flandre sighed. Her wings twitched, and there was a jingle of crystal – almost like wind chimes, although the tones made little sense.

And then, she scratched at the floor again, and watched. No stone broke, and no path was etched.

She seemed almost frozen. Marisa, on the other hand, looked to Koishi.

ᅟ

And Koishi watched as uncertainty overwhelmed Flandre's mind.

Nothing like this had ever happened before in the many centuries of the vampire's life. It hadn't even occurred to her that it might be possible to change how she was, and now…

Now, it was a little too much to understand. There were more possibilities, now, than could be full understood in the moment. There was more to wish for than Flandre had ever dreamed of.

It was terrifying, and it was hopeful. It was terrifying because it was hopeful. Things that had been comfortably abandoned as idle daydreams were now within the realm of possibility.

And Koishi waited, thinking of what she had been, and how she had changed. Thinking of the possibilities that Marisa had helped her find, everything that had changed when she opened her eye.

It was scary. But it was right. Whatever Flandre was, she was not a monster. She didn't deserve to spend eternity locked away. She was dangerous, but… she didn't have to be. Koishi had felt anger before, now. She had seen what others could become without thought, what hatred could turn people into.

Anger and hatred didn't have to be who somebody was… and Koishi refused to believe that the strange beast within the vampire had to be who she was, either.

Koishi took a seat beside Flandre, smiling. She was afraid… but she was hopeful, and there was a joy in that hope. "I know it's scary."

Flandre paused, and… Koishi shared. She knew she could, and she knew she was sharing. She felt the memories, the old fear, the crippling pain that returned with the opening of her third eye.

And she remembered what came after, too. The hope, the uncertainty… and the series of discoveries that marked a kinder world, now.

You're not alone, she said without words. Not anymore.

She could feel confusion, fear, and uncertainty. She could feel Flandre's pain return as acceptance began to crumble. There was hope, here, and the vampire didn't know what to make of it.

She didn't know, and she wanted to follow it nonetheless. Everything that she had once given up on was… possible.

Here, the monster inside her was quiet. It was a part of her, but every other fragment of Flandre was stronger in this moment.

And then, the vampire pulled Koishi into a tight hug, and began to sob. She was terrified, in the end. Hope came with fear – to reignite every old emotion, when such hopes could fall short, or simply shatter when nothing worked. She didn't want to face those fears… but she wanted to hope. She wanted to believe that there was a world in which she could play, in which she wasn't just… the keeper for a monster that could destroy everything.

A world in which she was allowed to be a child, sometimes, instead of simply feeling like one.

Koishi held on, smiling. She understood. She understood the fear, and the pain, and the acceptance, the resignation to the fact that the world would not be kind. In moments, everything that Flandre Scarlet had accepted for centuries had come crashing down… and she wanted it to.

And so, Koishi held the vampire, thinking simple comforts as Marisa had before. She understood, now, what Flandre felt.

"It'll be okay," she said, looking ahead. "I'm here. We're here. We'll come back to play. We'll keep coming back until it's safe. It'll be safe."

Koishi could feel Marisa's smile. Flandre had no words, even as she began to calm down.

And, finally, the vampire let go, and again, her wings produced a chorus of odd, crystalline tones. "…thank you."

Koishi giggled. "Of course! You should be free."

Flandre smiled back, and it was unlike before. She was tired, now, and tired in a way she hadn't been before.

The vampire let out a long yawn… and then a small yelp as Marisa picked her up, grinning.

"I didn't ask for that…" mumbled Flandre.

"You're tired, aren'tcha?" Marisa kept on grinning.

"…yeah." Flandre pouted, but didn't resist.

"Well, call it bedtime for tonight, then." Marisa walked onwards. "Hey, Sakuya," she added. "Where is her bed?"

Sakuya was there, although she didn't answer. The bed was, of course, just in front of Marisa – it had always been there, but the basement's shape seemed to match how Sakuya thought of it.

There were faster thoughts, laid out in frozen time, but Koishi didn't try to read them.

Flandre made a small show of sulking as Marisa dropped her into bed, but didn't really seem to have the energy to protest. A few moments later, she curled up, and looked at Koishi.

"…Thank you," she murmured, and Koishi could feel fear and pain begin to drain away. Flandre was quite sleepy, now, and hope seemed to be what would carry into dreams.

This, at least, made Koishi happy to know. She waited a few minutes longer, counting the pace of breath and thought as she did with Marisa.

Moments later, Flandre was asleep.

Koishi yawned. She was tired, too. She hadn't slept much.

And Sakuya, of course, was right on time, wordless and in form.

Marisa sighed, but her feelings were of minor amusement. "What, we come in here for all this and we don't even get to wander on our own?"

"You might wake her up again if you cause a commotion," said Patchouli.

The librarian, on the other hand, was… stressed.

…If I know Marisa, then they're entirely set on helping her. Patchouli frowned. Remi won't like it.

"Why not?"

Patchouli paused for a moment. She had entirely forgotten Koishi's third eye. "She's… sensitive about her sister."

"My sis is, too."

"Your sister has considerably more restraint. And didn't have to seal you away." The magician shook her head. "It is a sore spot, and her helplessness in the matter…" It harms her pride, and she cares greatly for her sister.

"And you think she'll be angry at us?" Koishi was worried, now. The parallels between Remilia and her sister were not lost on her, and… the thought of the older sister's anger made her feel doubt.

"I think it will be my job to explain it to her." Patchouli sighed. "Make no mistake: if anyone has a chance of changing what has been set in stone for so long, it is the two of you. Your unique ways, and Kirisame's infuriating penchant for the impossible."

But she will be afraid, as well. One accident is all that it takes to break the rules. One person. Patchouli looked to Marisa, who had been quietly listening in. "Do you understand the rules you are playing with, here?"

Marisa met Patchouli's gaze, and any amusement faded. "…Yeah. It's my—"

"Don't be stupid." Patchouli's voice was sharp, now. It had an edge that Koishi had never heard, before, and it was clear that the youkai magician was quite concerned, despite herself.

Marisa recognized this, too, and she took it quite seriously. Images of an infuriated Reimu flashed through her mind.

Patchouli went on. "If there is an accident, and Marisa Kirisame disappears from Gensokyo one day, do you honestly believe that it will simply pass because it was your decision to risk such an occurrence? You think that the Hakurei Shrine Maiden would simply allow it, solely because the danger was your own choice?

"If a human seeks out a youkai without respect for the rules and meets their end, is there no investigation? No extermination? If a child wanders too far from the village, was it simply their risk to take?" Patchouli continued to glare through Marisa. "No. Reimu would not allow it to pass. She could not allow it to pass.

"So it would serve you well not to make such juvenile assumptions. It is simple folly to take on responsibilities that you do not understand – so if you wish to help, then understand them."

Koishi, now, was afraid. The worlds she could see in the consequences that Patchouli spoke of were dark – they were broken. Painted in loss and conflict.

If Reimu came to exterminate a threat within the mansion, Patchouli knew that they would resist. No matter the rules.

No matter what happened, it would be a dark day.

And the risk was not Koishi's own. It was not her life alone, not only the lives of those who chose to take such a risk.

She took a deep breath… and waited. She looked to Marisa, and waited, now. She could hold her fears back for the moment – it was not enough for her to think through them.

ᅟ

"You're right."

Marisa met Patchouli's glare without flinching.

"I'm right." Patchouli was not impressed.

"It's a giant, stupid, reckless risk, and it's not just my life at stake. Not even the two of us. If it went that way… you'd probably all die trying to stop her, too, wouldn't you?"

Patchouli didn't reply.

And then Marisa smiled. "But you're as stupid as I am, aren't you? I'm here because I can finally see a chance to change what's been wrong for centuries, and you can't give up on that either, can you?"

Patchouli opened her mouth, and was cut off by Koishi.

"Even if you say Remilia will be afraid, or that it would just…'create an intolerable amount of conflict if she did not allow Flandre the chance', that's not why you're going to talk to her about this, is it?"

Patchouli paused, and then let out a small chuckle. "You know, that is the sort of thing that tends to make people dislike mind-readers."

Koishi blinked. "No it's not."

Marisa paused. That was not the reaction she'd expect – and that was, in its small way, quite exciting.

"Oh?" Patchouli raised an eyebrow, but she seemed just a little more relaxed now.

"It might be annoying, but that's not going to make anyone hate us for everything else. People hate us because they're afraid of what we'll think about their thoughts. You're not afraid of that."

Koishi, Marisa realized, seemed to be taking her cues from Patchouli – who was, as always, almost completely matter-of-fact.

And Patchouli smiled. "You're not wrong." And then, she looked back to Marisa. "I suppose you're right – it is another rare case, as you might put it, of Patchouli Knowledge being sentimental.

"Still. You'd best hope you're not mistaken."

Marisa nodded – for once, her recklessness wasn't particularly funny. "Yeah. I'll try my best."

Patchouli sighed. "Well, I'll see what I can do, then. Now if you'll excuse me… it's going to be a long night."

And with that, the magician departed, and Sakuya gave a small nod.

"Yeah," said Marisa, acknowledging the unspoken offer. "Let's go."

＊ ＊ ＊

"…It's about Flandre."

Patchouli Knowledge waited out her mistress' gaze. For nearly anyone else, it would be quite an uncomfortable silence. For the magician, it was simply a natural proceeding for the situation.

Remilia trusted her librarian, in an odd way. With Patchouli, there were no minced words – there was no care for authority or gentle treatment, and for whatever her reasons were, the Scarlet Devil had accepted this.

What this meant was that Patchouli Knowledge, reclusive as she was, was the one expected to explain any serious matter to Remilia.

The vampire took a deep breath, and then smiled thinly. "So the witch's night-time visit was important after all, then. I'd been wondering."

Patchouli raised an eyebrow.

"However uneducated you so incessantly paint me as," started Remilia, "I am not blind to every happening within my own house."

"My apologies," said Patchouli, slightly relieved. With anyone else, such barbs would be a sign of lost composure – and, as such, anger. Between the two of them, they were a slight push from Remilia, and nothing more. "Your sister has traditionally been a rather sensitive topic."

Remilia scoffed. "It was obvious from the start, Patchouli. Flandre has been quite anxious around me recently.

"So one way or another, you will be explaining it to me. It would be prudent to do so now."

Her smile was gone.

Remilia was, more often than not, somewhat of a brat to Patchouli. In most matters between the two of them, she had long abandoned composure. Random barbs and childish demands were par for the course – and if something really had upset her, it was made quite obvious.

Flandre was the sole exception. Patchouli, even averse to emotional estimates as she was, knew why: it was an area in which Remilia Scarlet felt failure – and didn't care to admit it.

And so, feeling as if she still had to be the best older sister she could be, she was formal and composed. She attempted to be reasonable and measured at every turn, hiding the fear that any break in such composure might come at her younger sister's expense.

Remilia's pride was far more durable than it looked. If she seemed a brat, she took any fall or successful slight far better than her demeanor would imply. For all she acted as a puppetmaster, an organized hand behind the tides of inevitable fate – she accepted nearly everything outside of her control.

Flandre, still, was beyond that. Even with Patchouli (and even, she suspected, while alone), to lose composure in these matters would be more than her pride could take.

Nearly five centuries, and Flandre was here, sealed away beneath the mansion. Remilia nearly blamed herself, and she couldn't bear to.

"Of course," said Patchouli. "It's been two visits. One was… well, it was Kirisame, as she is. She came to play with Flandre."

"Of course." And there was another thing Remilia would never care to admit. For every theft and slight, Marisa Kirisame's somewhat regular play-dates with Flandre were much appreciated.

"Koishi Komeiji accompanied her, this time."

"And?"

"She took a turn playing with Flandre."

Now Remilia looked quite irritated. "What did she do?"

So Koishi's powers were still a subject of some tension, too.

Patchouli went on. "I'm not entirely sure—"

"Then give me your best guess."

"—But it seems that she made Flandre more aware of her powers. And, perhaps, her nature."

"Her nature? She is—"

"The entirety of it." Patchouli remained firm.

"Then they have terrified and scarred—"

"Remi."

Patchouli was, for the most part, the only person in the mansion allowed to be harsh to her mistress. Allowed, however, didn't quite fully describe it – she was expected to be the voice of reason, no matter how much pretense it required her to abandon.

Even so, it wasn't pleasant.

The vampire took a deep breath, still glaring. "…Go on."

"Being as they are," said Patchouli, "they then offered to help."

"…To help Flandre?" And there it was. Anger drained away as uncertainty replaced it. With anyone else, uncertainty was anger – vulnerabilities were to be defended

Patchouli nodded. "I believe that if anybody could find a way to change that we could not, it would be them."

Silence. She went on.

"Koishi's powers extend past thought; she can share and manipulate reflex and feeling alike. If anything could allow Flandre to overcome or understand her… impulses… it would be such an ability. Kirisame… well, she's always had a penchant for the impossible."

"…This is not a game." Remilia's gaze would be intimidating if it weren't so desperate, now.

"I made that abundantly clear, yes. There is much at risk."

Remilia took another deep breath. Right now, she was not the Scarlet Devil, and she was certainly no master of fates. In this moment, she was little more than a desperate, caring sister. "…Do you really think they can?"

"I do not know," said Patchouli. "There is no precedent. I simply believe that it is the greatest chance we will ever find."

"…Fine."

Remilia turned away. "Leave me be. I'm… convinced. Enough."

"Alright." Patchouli paused, and then, in a moment of uncharacteristic sentiment, added, "let me know if you need anything."

Remilia didn't answer, and Patchouli went to return to the library.

Sakuya was quick to join her as she left Remilia's sight, and Patchouli noted that time had ceased its otherwise inevitable movement for their surroundings.

The maid said nothing, but knowing her, this was certainly word enough. "She accepted. Readily."

Silence, still.

"She's desperate, in her own way." The magician sighed. "She's aware of the risks we are taking, and she didn't hesitate."

The maid nodded. "She has always cared for her sister."

Patchouli scoffed. "You're quite concerned yourself, no?"

Sakuya offered a small smile in return. "My occupation is dependent on the well-being of my mistress. I'd think it natural to show some concern."

"Natural, hm?" Patchouli smirked, and Sakuya was silent as she offered a gesture to the right. They were at the library.

"Thank you," said Patchouli. "I imagine this is far from the last we'll be hearing of this, though."

The maid nodded as time began to turn for the world.

Tiny movements in an instant told Patchouli all she needed to know. Sakuya could take the time to think it an instant – she had not taken the personal time to match all the smaller details. Slight motions in hair, in clothes, faint changes in expression let the magician know that Sakuya had taken some time to herself.

The willingness to show such minor imperfections was an honor afforded only to the librarian, in most cases.

"I allowed this to happen," said the maid at last, "and we are both aware of our mistress' nature. Within my discretion, I believe this is for the best."

Patchouli nodded. "I certainly hope so."

Sakuya nodded. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"I'm fine, thank you." Patchouli waved a hand.

With that, the maid was gone.

Patchouli took a seat, and leaned back. What was to come, it seemed, was going to be uniquely difficult.

＊ ＊ ＊

"You're worried."

Marisa glanced to Koishi, who was in her usual place in bed – curled up on top of the witch.

"Yeah," said Marisa. "Just thinking."

Koishi closed her eyes. "I can handle being hurt."

"Physically?" Marisa frowned. "I know you've gotten stronger, but…" I've never seen you get hurt that way.

Koishi stopped to think.

And then clung to Marisa tightly. The upset that followed was not subtle.

"When was the last time?" asked Marisa. She could tell it had at least happened before, now.

Koishi spoke quietly. "…when they tried to kill me."

She was shaking. Marisa hugged her back, closing her eyes as she did.

The witch found herself repeating the same mantras she had before, when Koishi had first re-opened her eye. You're safe now, came the thoughts, barely conscious. I'm here.

The two were silent for some time.

"…Let's go see it," said Koishi. "You can come with me. I'll show you, this time."

"Like Mima?"

"Yeah."

Marisa thought about this. She wasn't, in truth, too keen on watching the first-hand story of how the past had torn apart Koishi.

To help her face that past, however, and to overcome parts of it? Marisa couldn't think of anything she wanted to put more effort towards. It would be unpleasant, but it would be worth it… and, in time, it would help another.

"I'd love to," said Marisa, smiling. "It'll be hard, but… I know you can do it."

Koishi nodded, and curled up against the witch. "You're here for me."

"Long as I live." Marisa ruffled the satori's hair. "And I love you."

"Love you too," murmured Koishi. "M'sleepy."

A few seconds later, her breathing evened out – she was quick to sleep, today. Whatever she had done for Flandre today had taken a lot out of her.

Marisa would be slower to follow, still thinking on her possibilities. She knew Flandre well in personality, but she had little clue about the depths of her instability.

It would be difficult; that much was certain. Flandre had been locked away in the basement for four hundred and ninety five years, when Marisa had first met her, and it was obvious that this was a regretful truth. She was allowed – almost unceremoniously – to play with Flandre, despite the games of cat and mouse she otherwise played with the mansion. Remilia would speak little of her sister to any outsider, and now, Sakuya and Patchouli had both made it clear that this was important to risk their lives for.

Four hundred and ninety five years was a long record to break.

Marisa grinned a little, looking down to a sleeping Koishi. If anyone can do it…

The witch leaned back, and waited for sleep to catch up.