By the time the conversation finished, the thin late afternoon crowd had vanished, replaced by a dinner time rush. Reimu had to gently elbow a few standing patrons away from her seat before she even had room to stand up. "Well, this was pretty fun. ... since you can't come bother me at my house now, we should do things like this more often."

"I want to see your new house sometime, though!" Sanae said. "It sounds cool."

"I'll ask Yukari about it, I guess."

"Yeah, it ain't the same if we can't swing by and steal all your booze," Marisa said, walking around the table.

"I think I'm okay with that." Reimu scooped her coin purse up from where she'd left it sitting on the table, then reached into one of the baggy sleeves of her outfit. Inside that small cover, she was able to open a tiny gap and tuck it away.

It was supposed to be a bit more subtle than opening a gap right in the middle of the shop. Marisa was still left staring at her afterward. "W-wait! You can make those things?!"

"... yeah, I can."

"Holy crap." She leaned in with a sly grin. "Think you can hang around for a bit? Think about this: We go to the moneylender, and I distract 'em, while you—"

"Not interested."

"Ah, darn," Marisa said, still grinning. As usual, her complete lack of disappointment at the rejection left Reimu uncertain whether or not it had been a joke. "Well, keep it in mind. Anyway, if you're going to visit the shrine, see if you can talk Shiko into hostin' a flower-viewing there this year, while you're at it. The trees only have a few weeks left on 'em, and it'd be a shame to waste it."

"I'll do my best," Reimu said. She looked out the window. She couldn't see the sky, but it was getting dark out. "... anyway, I should try to get to the shrine before it gets too late."

"Yeah, no problem," Marisa said, and gave her a slap on the back. "Good luck! If anybody can talk some sense into the new kid, it's gotta be you, right?"

What am I going to do when I get there?

Reimu had been worrying about it during the entire flight, and she didn't have a good answer. She'd never had much use for plans. Instinct alone could guide her through most situations. As the shrine maiden, she had never encountered a problem that she couldn't resolve by charging into battle. And now that she was here, standing in front of the Hakurei shrine, a plan didn't seem to be coming to her.

Nothing to do now but jump in and see what happened.

Reimu made her way up the steps and to the front of the shrine. Thanks to her new night vision, even in the low light, she could see that the place had changed a little since her last visit. The leaky spot in the roof had been patched up—Reimu had always been unable to work up the energy to do so when she could just throw a pot under it. The frayed rope for the donation box bell had been replaced. The front of the shrine looked like it had been cleaned, and she was sure that every bit would practically sparkle in the sunlight. It did look a bit less like a youkai shrine, she had to admit. She found the excessive cleanliness annoying, until she passed the donation box: Still empty. And now you know why I never bothered with all of that.

Now that she was here anyway, though, she could use all of the blessings that she could get. She'd seen the motions of prayer hundreds of times before, but they had a surreal quality to them this time. The water was still warm from the daytime sun. As soon as she rang the bell, she could hear sounds coming from within the shrine. She dumped the contents of her coin purse into the box—they made a lonely rattling sound—bowed, clapped, and prayed.

Since the shrine's god hadn't even gone out of its way to acknowledge her leaving, she didn't feel hopeful about getting anything from it now. It felt necessary, though. As the shrine maiden, going out of her way to pay respect to the god had seemed redundant. Now, it was one small way for her to feel some residual connection to the shrine.

Her head was still bowed when she heard the door slide open. Shiko's voice followed. "What are you doing?"

"I'm praying," Reimu said. She pointedly stuck at it for another few seconds before opening her eyes and looked up.

Shiko was standing in the doorway, gripping the door with a cloth wrapped around one hand. It was easy to see why. Her hands and arms were smeared with ink. There was even a little on her face... and smudged into the white of her shrine maiden uniform. "Making ofuda?" Reimu asked.

Shiko ignored the question. Without taking her eyes off of Reimu, she released the door and started wiping her hands clean with the cloth. "This isn't a shrine for youkai. You should leave."

"You don't really have a lot of worshipers for me to scare off right now," Reimu said, gesturing at the empty pathway behind herself. Now that she no longer depended on donations for her income, she could take a perverse satisfaction in it. "I need to talk to you."

"I'm not interested."

Shiko started sliding the door closed, and Reimu grabbed it to stop her. The new shrine maiden glared at her. "I was the shrine maiden for years," Reimu said. "No matter what I am now, I still know how to do the job."

"I have it under control," Shiko said. She gave the door another tug.

"No, you don't. You're going to get yourself killed!"

Reimu had blurted it out without thinking, but it had the intended effect. Shiko froze, with the door still cracked open half a meter. "... what do you mean?"

Since she had the initiative anyway, Reimu decided to seize it. While Shiko was distracted, she pushed the door a few more centimeters before Shiko stopped her. She left her hand on the frame. "Are you going to listen now?"

"How am I... going to die?" On the surface, Shiko sounded calm, but she was gripping the door tightly enough that her knuckles were white.

"Are you going to listen to me?"

The girl glared at Reimu through the doorway, but her interest was obviously piqued. "... hold on," she said, and stepped away. When she returned, a few seconds later, there was a stack of ofuda in her hand. She held them up and gave them a demonstrative waggle. "You have two minutes."

Is this really necessary? Reimu wanted to say at the implied threat, but she didn't want to waste her time. She could see that the ofuda were the heavier variety that she had used for spell card duels. Not lethal, but they were enough to make most youkai regret picking a fight well into the next morning. She was sure that plenty of those same youkai would get a kick out of her being threatened with them right now. She turned her thoughts back to the matter at hand. "... I hear that you've been attacking peaceful youkai. Why?"

"I don't know, who are you talking about?"

"Mystia Lorelei," Reimu said. "The night sparrow who runs a lamprey stand."

"I caught her trying to blind humans! That's not peaceful."

"It doesn't deserve being nearly exterminated, either!" The argument didn't come naturally to her. She'd never been the one defending a youkai's actions before. Mystia was an easier one to defend, at least. She rarely caused any lasting harm apart from the three hundred yen cost of her lamprey special. Actual violence was bad for business.

"What should I have done, then? Used your play-fighting rules?"

An annoyed blush rose to Reimu's cheeks. Play-fighting. A few youkai had made similarly dismissive comments about the spell card system at first. "Spell cards are the only way to settle things peacefully."

"She would have been right back in the same place the next day!"

"Then don't worry about Mystia," Reimu said with a sigh. "If you try to attack every youkai that causes trouble, anywhere, you're just going to make them angry."

Shiko had been raising her voice throughout the conversation, but now let out a low sigh and quieted down again. "So is that it, then? You think they're going to get angry enough to try killing me?"

"I don't know anything for sure," Reimu admitted. She was a bit calmer now that Shiko wasn't shouting, herself. The girl was still holding up the stack of ofuda. Seeing her shaking them as she talked made for a nerve-wracking conversation. Reimu had seen them in action far, far too often to want to be on the receiving end. "But it could happen. Youkai are a bunch of headstrong brats, but... they stick together, when it comes to youkai exterminators. Word has gotten around about you pretty fast. If you attack the wrong target, somebody might try it."

Shiko went silent as she considered that. "Well, um. Now that I know, I can stay on the lookout."

"... w-wait, so you're not going to...?"

"To back down? Nope. I mean... I'm a bit of a scaredy-cat, actually. I cried on my first youkai hunt," Shiko admitted with a grim chuckle. "But I already promised myself, I'm going to do whatever I can to keep people safe. If that means that some youkai tries to eat me... I can seal the shrine so that no youkai can enter. I'll be extra careful when I'm hunting. I guess we'll see who wins, won't we?"

"... you really are stubborn, aren't you?"

"You're not the first person to tell me that," Shiko said. "... thanks for the warning, but your two minutes are up."

The door started sliding closed again. "You idiot! Don't you care if you die?!" Reimu lunged forward into the doorway and stopped the door with her foot. This time, she put the whole force of her body into slamming the door open.

Shiko obviously hadn't expected it. The girl took a stumbling step backward and held the ofuda up in front of herself, like the sight alone would ward Reimu off. Her eyes were wide in shock. The two were left staring at each other, with barely half a meter of space between them.

Reimu could picture how she must look now. Lunging through the doorway, with a sharp-toothed grin and unnatural eyes... so much for convincing the girl she was an ally. She could hardly look more like a youkai if she tried.

But there was something far more concerning here. She once again caught that food-like scent that had permeated the village. Her stomach growled in response, already feeling achingly empty even after the recent meal. Only now, with nothing else around and the source isolated, did she realize what it was.

The scent she'd been smelling throughout the village wasn't food. It was humans.

They smelled delicious.

Now that she'd put the two together, something in her brain just seemed to click. The spot where Shiko's delicate neck rose up from the hem of shrine maiden uniform looked invitingly vulnerable, and Reimu found her mouth watering. Her stomach knotted up, torn between disgusted nausea and hunger. The force drained from her muscles, and she leaned back out the door.

For just a few seconds, the two stared at each other across the short space between them, both looking overwhelmed and uncertain. Then, Shiko raised an ofuda in a shaking hand. "I think you should go."

Reimu was too overwhelmed to argue. With a dim nod, she released the doorway and stepped backward. Shiko moved forward quickly and shoved the door closed. The familiar click of the lock latching came a second later.

By the time Reimu got back to the homestead, her stomach was already growling again. She skipped the evening meal anyway.