Imperfect Metamorphosis

by TakerFoxx

It's the first day of spring, and Cirno and her friends are once again up to no good! But after stealing a strange box from Marisa's house, they soon find themselves over their heads as they discover some things are meant to remain locked up.

62. Snake in the Grass

Snake in the Grass

"I suppose I should have seen this coming."

Two powerful people sat across from the other in a richly appointed room. Between them was a low wooden table, on which was set the trappings of an afternoon tea that neither of them was partaking of. It really was nothing more than a formality. The room they were in was, after all, the private chambers of one of the two, which made her the Host. And while she was not at all pleased that the other had shown up unexpected and unannounced on her doorstep, the laws of hospitality were clear. The other was the Guest, and ought to be treated as such.

However, that didn't mean that the Host wasn't openly suspicious of the Guest's motives. Once the obligatory polite formalities had been dispensed with (less than thirty seconds worth), her Guest had explained her reason for coming. The Host had listened and listened well. After all, it was what she was best at, though having to do so irked her, seeing how her Guest's unusual spiritual composition interfered with her natural abilities in that regard. However, given who she was speaking to and what she had in mind, her reaction was really nothing less than bitter resignation.

Rather than take offense at her Host's lack of enthusiasm, the Guest merely smirked in amusement. "Oh?" she said.

"Yes," the Host sighed. Sitting back on her haunches, she clasped her hands in her lap, her thumbs working against one another. "Believe it or not, I do read the news, and do have access to other sources of information. I may not have gotten involved with what's been happening, but I have been aware of them. Eientei's troublesome creation. Yuuka Kazami's bizarre rampages. Political upheaval." Closing her eyes, she shook her head in regret. "And after what happened in the Blasted Lands, I'd say something like this would be nothing short of inevitable."

The Guest idly rested a fingertip against the surface of her cup of tea. She turned her finger in slow, lazy revolutions, swirling the liquid. "You are more perceptive than people give you credit for." She raised her hand, and the steam rising up from the muddy brown liquid puffed up, taking the form of a raging fire. "Then it should come as no surprise to you when I tell you that jolly old Yuuka's time has run out. At the end of this week, I will destroy her, and the Garden of the Sun will be razed to the ground."

In answer to this violent proclamation, the Host merely tilted her head to one side. "You seem quite certain of this."

"At this point it's only inevitable," the Guest said with a shrug. Bits of smoke broke off from the stream and formed themselves into hazy playing cards, which then stacked themselves in her palm. "The cards are too stacked against her."

This got a soft derisive snort from her Host. "That seems a foolish statement, coming from you."

Chuckling, the Guest tossed her smoky cards into the air, where they dissolved and drifted away. "Why, because I'm the sort to spout of metaphors concerning eggs and the numerical value of unhatched chickens, that I would be the one to warn against overconfidence and making bold predictions when there still may be an unlooked for variable that will completely blindside me and send the whole operation spiraling into disaster?"

"Yes," the Host said bluntly.

…

Hakurei Shrine

6:42 AM

On this particular morning, the Hakurei Shrine was a quiet place. Reisen was up and making breakfast, as she always did. Remilia was already dressed for bed but delaying her curfew by a few minutes longer to spend some time with her roommates. And Reimu…

Reimu was up well before her usual wakeup call and fully dressed and ready for the day. But she seemed reluctant to go out and seize it. She sat on the shrine's porch, hands on her knees as she watched the sun rise. Since she still had several minutes before the sunlight became dangerous, Remilia was hunkered down against the wall behind her. Neither of them spoke.

As Genji had said, Yukari Yakumo had made good on her promise. Now the transparent barrier than engulfed Hakurei Shrine had been shrunk down to only cover the main shrine grounds and was completely impenetrable from either side. This had been confirmed by Reimu's foot, followed by much cursing. As for the grounds themselves, well…

They weren't really there anymore.

All the plants were gone. The green grass of the front lawn. The cherry grove in the back. The trees that had sprouted out of the hillside. All of it, removed completely, leaving nothing but dull, brown dirt.

None of them were at all happy about the change, least of all Reimu herself. The shrine was her world, after all. It wasn't much, but it was still hers. Now it had been stripped down to the bone and drained of life and color. It had been a home. A small, sparsely furnished home, but a home nevertheless. Now it was a prison.

For Remilia and Reisen, the change had just further driven in the state of their condition. One of them was a political refugee and the other technically a convicted traitor, albeit one with extenuating circumstances. To them, the Hakurei Shrine had represented a significant step down from their comfortable lives, but at least it had been a pretty one that they were both familiar with. But now, that was gone, and they were reminded that they were still prisoners.

After a time, Reisen joined them. Setting down a plate of food next to Reimu, she claimed the spot on the porch on the other side of the steps and sat down. Even with all the foliage gone, the sunrise at Hakurei Shrine was still a gorgeous sight. They were going to take what beauty they could find.

As the Sun's rays warmed up the sky and played across the twinkling of the Hakurei Barrier, Remilia suddenly wondered out loud, "I wonder what's happening right now."

Frowning, Reimu turned to look at her. "Where?"

"Anywhere," Remilia said with a shrug.

Sighing, Reimu turned back to the light. "Well, Yukari's supposedly getting her big guns together," she said, counting off points on her fingers. "Yuuka's probably setting up the sandbags. And anyone with half a brain is going as far underground as possible."

Reisen's ears twitched, as they usually did when she was feeling curious. "Do you think she'll win?"

"Yukari?" Reimu shrugged. "Probably not."

"Well," Remilia observed. "That's pessimistic."

A noticeably long time passed before Reimu muttered, "Not to me."

This earned her curious looks from her roommates, and Remilia said, "Reimu, who are you rooting for exactly?"

"Neither," Reimu said bitterly. "I hope they kill each other."

Remilia sighed. "Well. That isn't like you."

"I don't really care."

"You should, seeing how we still need Yukari's power in order to make your plan for Rin Satsuki work."

Reisen swallowed and looked away.

Reimu glanced at her. A few slivers of ice melted from her face, enough for her show the tiniest bit of shame, but most of her rancor remained. "I…fine," she sighed. "I hope they drag Yuuka to Hell, but Yukari ends up a paraplegic."

Her face still turned away from the shrine maiden, Reisen said in a small voice, "Do you really hate her that much now?"

The ice returned. Pursing her lips, Reimu said, "Between the two of them, I pretty much lost everything I care about. And I never really had much to begin with. So yeah. I hate her that much now."

Remilia slowly breathed out. "Reimu, I understand your pain, but-"

"Don't, Remilia." Reimu pressed her fingertips to her forehead. "Just don't."

Remilia shot her a wary look, but complied. The subject was dropped, and the three of them went back to watching the sunrise, though none of them really saw it. They were all lost in unpleasant thoughts of their own.

Suddenly Reisen broke the silence with, "What's going to happen after though? I mean, to us?"

Remilia raised her head. "We go home, I suppose," she said with a shrug. "Flandre and I back to the Scarlet Devil Mansion. You and Rin to wherever you wish. The barrier will be brought down and the shrine grounds restored. And we go on with our lives."

"Do you think it'll happen like that?"

Reimu let out a bitter snort. "Not a chance in hell."

"Reimu," Remilia said, a bit of warning in her voice.

Rolling her eyes, Reimu twisted around to look right at the little vampire. "Remilia, think back, all the way back to when this mess began. Can you think of one of Yukari's plans that didn't end up as a complete disaster? Just one, name it."

Even though she had been talking to Remilia, Reisen was the one to say, "I can't think of anyone's plans not turning into a complete disaster."

Reimu nodded. "So why do you think this will be any different?" she said.

Remilia let out a low hiss. Standing up, she fixated her predatory eyes on the shrine maiden and murmured, "Because my sister's life is on the line, Reimu. As is Reisen's daughter. We can't exactly afford that sort of thinking."

This finally broke through the mask of bitterness and bile that had been frosted to Reimu's face, and a fair bit of shame peeked through. "Right," she said with a wince. Running her fingers back through her hair, she said, "Sorry guys. I've just been…"

"It's okay," Reisen said softly.

Remilia's face softened a bit. She sat down next to Reimu and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. The shrine maiden bit her lower lip and stared down at her knees, but managed a small nod of acknowledgement.

The three of them sat silently for a few moments longer, with Remilia keeping a careful eye on the light's progress, Reisen watching Reimu out of the corner of her eyes, and Reimu not really looking at anything in particular. Shifting her feet in discomfort, Reisen decided to break the silence again and asked, "So, what are you going to do when this is over?"

Reimu blinked. Looking up at her, she said, "Me?" When Reisen nodded, the shrine maiden shrugged and said, "I…I dunno. Go back to my duties, I guess." Then, seeing that more of an answer was required, she sighed and added, "Well, Alice offered to teach me magic, so I might as well take her up on that. And I really need to brush up on my own abilities too…" The rest of the sentence trailed off. An interesting thought had just occurred to her. "Hey, Remilia?"

"Yes?"

"Do you…do you know how to fight?"

This earned her a genuine squeak of surprise from the vampire. "Excuse you?"

"Fight," Reimu repeated. "Like, not vampire fighting, and not spellcard fighting, but something more…"

Tilting her head to one side, Remilia raised an eyebrow and suggested, "Civilized?"

"Well, kind of."

"I see," Remilia nodded. She was starting to understand. "You wish to expand your repertoire, and were hoping that someone with a proper upbringing and centuries in which to acquire skills might have something to teach you."

Reimu thought about it for a bit and then said, "Yeah. Pretty much."

A small smile played across Remilia's face. "Well, unfortunately, I don't really know much of the martial arts. Sakuya could probably teach you a thing or two though. I'll instruct her to give you lessons."

"I'd appreciate it," Reimu said honestly.

Nodding, Remilia looked back to the sunlight's progress. She still had a few more minutes. "As for me, all I really know is how to fence."

Reimu blinked at the unfamiliar use of a familiar word. "Come again?"

"It's a type of competitive sword fighting, popular among the gentry," Remilia explained. "Using thin and flexible blades. They're called foils, a sort of rapier. Lots of wristwork and leg positioning, and an emphasis on speed and agility over swinging power."

"Sword fighting, eh?" Reimu thought about that for a moment. She had never been much of a weapon user, but she had to admit, that idea had possibilities. With a small smile of her own, she said, "Okay. Can you teach me that too?"

…

Rather than take offense at her Host's bluntness, the Guest instead let out a soft titter of amusement. "Well, you're not wrong. Though I should point out that the previous disasters you read about all sprung from endeavors that had very specific and very delicate goals, but ended up dissolving into wanton destruction. In this case, wanton destruction is the goal, so that does stack the odds in my favor." Her gemstone eyes glittered. "But don't think I am relying on that alone to succeed."

The Host's bushy brow. "What do you mean?"

If the Guest's smile had gotten any smugger, the Host might have been obligated to smack her on principle alone. "Why my dear friend, I mean that this has been a very busy day for me. Or did you think that you were the only stop I've made?"

…

The Scarlet Devil Mansion – Sakuya's Room

4:30 PM

It had been four-thirty in the afternoon when Sakuya had gone to bed. When she woke again precisely eight hours later, the hands on the clock had not moved, nor had the position of the Sun.

Yawning, she sat up in bed and rubbed the grit out of her eyes. She stretched her arms over her head, enjoying the pull of the muscle. Then she swung her legs around and stood up.

If there was some sort of long-term consequence from sleeping while time was stopped, Sakuya had yet to experience it. Having to run the comings and goings of a mansion the size of the Scarlet Devil Mansion was harrowing enough, but having a nocturnal and extremely demanding mistress and a staff made up of a species known for erratic and unreliable behavior meant that she had to be active at all hours to keep things from dissolving into chaos. If it weren't for her ever watchful eye, the place simply would not be able to function. And to ensure that her eye remained vigilant, it needed rest. For that, her power over the flow of time was essential. Whenever she needed a break, she could take one as long as she needed, and no time at all would be wasted. If there was a cleaning task that her staff couldn't be relied upon to handle, all she had to do was pull out her pocketwatch, press a button, and she had all the time in the world to take care of it without worrying that some new problem would develop behind her back. The only real drawback was that the passage of time moved much more slowly for her than anyone else. Sometimes, it could take almost a month for her to live one single week. But that was fine. Those same powers had already rendered her ageless, so really the only problem was that special events took a devil of a long time to arrive.

If anything, Sakuya's power was now even more crucial, since she now had duties at both the Scarlet Devil Mansion and Hakurei Shrine. Many had assumed that this meant that her workload had doubled, but honestly the opposite was true. Before her mistress had been exiled, she had waited on Remilia's every whim anyway while the vampire had been awake, all the while minding the mansion's upkeep on top of it. But now that Remilia was in a smaller and simpler space, she only tended to her mistress's needs and left the Scarlet Devil Mansion in the care of her lieutenants. However, rather than ease some of the weight off of her shoulders, this only increased her agitation. Every second she wasn't personally looking after the mansion's business only pushed it closer to disaster in her mind. Though nothing truly dire had yet to happen, she wouldn't really be at ease until Remilia's incarceration was over and they could all return to the comfort of normalcy.

Even though it was still mid-afternoon, Sakuya went about the normal morning routine: undress, wash up, perfume, new clothes, equipment, hair, and final inspection. Once she was satisfied and ready to take on her next shift, she pressed down on her pocketwatch's controls. And with that, the flow of time resumed its course.

"Good afternoon, Miss Izayoi. Sleep well?"

Sakuya stiffened. When she had gone about her business in her frozen room, it had been empty, save for her. For someone to suddenly greet her now, they must have pinpointed the exact second she would have stepped outside of her temporal anomaly and entered her room without her noticing, which in of itself was practically impossible.

But then, considering who it was, that was no doubt deliberate.

"Lady Yakumo," Sakuya said, turning to the person in question. "This is an unexpected pleasure. How may I be of assistance?"

Yukari Yakumo sat in one of her chairs, legs crossed and an open book in her lap. By all appearances she had been sitting there reading while patiently waiting for Sakuya to wake up. Of course that was not the case, which furthered Sakuya's belief that it did not matter how cultured, how intelligent, and how influential an individual youkai might be: they all still insisted on being annoying for the sake of it.

Placing the book aside, Yukari rose to her full towering height. "I have come to inform you that there has been a change in plans. As you know, Marisa Kirisame's murder has rendered a diplomatic solution to the Yuuka Kazami problem unworkable, and as such our timetable has been accelerated. In two days' time, I will begin our main assault on the Garden of the Sun. It is expected to be spectacularly flashy and destructive. And while Yuuka's attention is diverted with defending her turf, I plan on infiltrating her mansion with a crack team in order to retrieve her hostages. I want you to lead it."

It was very well that Sakuya had long perfected her poker face. Even so, this threatened to crack it. "Me?" she said, barely avoiding a stutter. "Why me?"

"Because you are a proven expert in such areas and your personal involvement will serve as an excellent motivational tool. Why else not?"

Well, that was true enough, but even so, this was a lot to take in. "But still, just two days' time? That's hardly enough time-"

Predictably, Yukari cut her off. "Miss Izayoi, let me make something clear from the onset: I am brooking no argument in this. I have had it up to here with the constant bickering and backtalk that has plagued every step of this calamity. So take this in and get yourself used to it: in two days I will launch a major offensive on the Garden of the Sun and destroy it. Yuuka Kazami will be eliminated in the process, and you will lead a team of specialists into Mugenkan to find and recover her hostages, including your prissy mistress's damned psychotic sister. The details have already been drawn out, and I will be more than happy to brief you in full when the time is right, but for now you will prepare yourself for this engagement and do as you're told. Do you understand me?"

"Yes ma'am," Sakuya said obediently. It was easier that way. Then, though it was probably not the best idea, she still asked, "And may I inquire as to who will be on this team?"

"That is still a work in progress," Yukari told her. "But expect some of Satori Komejii's more competent pets to be accompanying you."

Sakuya frowned at that. "Her…pets?" she said.

"Yes. Despite the name, they performed many other functions than proving her lonely heart with companionship. I assure you, you will find the ones I pick more than sufficient for the job at hand. And before you ask, no. The nuclear bird will not be involved. I have more than enough firepower at the ready without bringing along that idiot."

Despite being warned not to, Sakuya still had restrain herself from protesting the insult to Utsuho's intelligence. The Hell-Raven may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she was still one of the first to approach Remilia with condolences following Flandre's death and capture. Sakuya may not know her very well, but she appreciated the kindness. However, this was neither the time nor place, so she just nodded and said, "I understand."

"Good. Oh by the by, I'll be speaking to your friend Patchouli Knowledge as well. She'll be coming along."

Sakuya nearly facefaulted at that. "Patchouli? Why?"

Fortunately Yukari didn't reprimand her for the question. "Because we need a sufficiently adept magician for this mission, and with Marisa Kirisame and Mima no longer available, she will have to do."

"B-but Patchouli is unsuited for this sort of thing! She is talented, yes, but her physical condition is-"

"Miss Izayoi," Yukari said, her voice a dangerous murmur. "Shut up."

Though she was now brimming over with protests, Sakuya's subordinate instincts took over and she shut up.

"Good," Yukari said, turning her back to her. She waved a hand, and one of her gaps split the air. "And I need not tell you this, but I will anyway: if any word of this conversation leaks out, I don't care how it happened. I will skin you alive and find someone with less skill but tighter lips to do the job."

Without bothering to wait for acknowledgement from Sakuya, Yukari stepped through the gap into the Borderlands. It closed up, swallowing her and leaving a very bemused and conflicted Sakuya behind.

…

This bit of information was met with pursed lips and a cold look. "You have gone to others then," the Host said.

The Guest shrugged as if the matter was of no concern. "Some, yes. Specialists, experts, that sort of thing."

"Cannon fodder."

The Guest chuckled. She picked up one of the small cake and nibbled a bit on the edge, the first time either of them had actually partaken of the tea before them. "A blunt way of putting things. 'Conscripts' may be a gentler way of phrasing it."

The Host shook her head and gently massaged her brow with her fingertips. "How, exactly?" she sighed.

"Well, it all amounts to the same thing, only 'cannon fodder' makes them sound like a bunch of brainless dupes that deserve to be used by those more intelligent," the Guest said. "While 'conscripts' makes them sound more sympathetic. You know, the whole common man or woman thrust into a terrible situation in which they are way over their heads and forced to fight for the cause of someone who doesn't even know their name."

"I still don't see the difference. To the person doing the thrusting, it all comes out to the same."

There was a brief pause, and then the Guest's smirk grew to a genuine grin and she snickered. Loudly.

"What?" the Host said in puzzlement. Then she thought back to what she had just said and her face froze. She looked at her Guest in disbelief, and then let out a low, exasperated groan at the immaturity. "Oh, come on. Really?"

Still chuckling, the Guest said, "Well, in my case it's a mixture of both. Granted, I didn't give any of them a choice in whether or not to be, ah, 'thrust' into a dark and unknown peril, but I at least know their names." Then after a couple seconds of reconsideration, she amended, "Well, some of them anyway."

…

The Palace of Earth Spirits – Koishi's Room

3:24 PM

Using one hand to balance the tray of food against his bicep, Jun turned the doorknob to Koishi's room. He pushed it in with his elbow and walked in. "Koishi," he said as he walked in. "It's me."

No response came from the shadows. Koishi preferred to keep her room dark, with what light there was coming only from the fires outside, filtered into flickering colorful patterns through the stained-glass window. Koishi herself sat in her chair, its back toward the door, her gaze perpetually focused on the softly glowing shape of the window, her thoughts off in who knows where.

Clearing his throat, Jun said again, "Koishi? I brought you your lunch."

"Hmmm?" Koishi's shaggy silver locks of hair appeared as she peeked around the armrest. "Who's there?"

Jun's heart fell. "It's me," he said, keeping his dismay from his voice. "Jun. Your dog."

There was a worrying pause, and suddenly Koishi leapt out of her chair. "Oh, Jun!" she cried happily as she ran over to him. "You came to visit me!"

When Jun was in his Human state, the top of Koishi's head barely came up to his chest. Still, she threw her arms around his waist and managed to lift him a few centimeters off the ground as she squeezed. Jun winced a bit but didn't protest. A few bruises were nothing.

"Oh, it's so great to see you!" she gushed. She set him back down. "How have you been?"

Fixing a smile, Jun set the tray down on a table and gently held her head to his torso. "I've been fine, Koishi. Just fine."

"That's so good to hear." Koishi bounded back, a wide, yet somewhat vacant, smile on his face, and her eyes joyful but not really focusing on him. Clasping her hands together, she said, "And what about Satori? How's she been?"

It was a fair while before Jun was able to say, "She's doing well. She wishes she could visit, but…"

"Oh, that's fine," Koishi said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I know she's busy." Then her smile wavered and collapsed, and her eyes went dim. "So busy…"

Jun waited for a bit, but Koishi had gone quiet, her face twisted into a confused frown, her gaze drifting off to nowhere in particular. Finally he coughed a bit and said, "Koishi?"

Snapping out of her reverie, Koishi's face lit up and she said, "Oh, Jun! You came to visit me!"

Jun's shoulders slumped. "Yes," was all he could say.

About half an hour later, Jun exited the room. Sighing, he let the door shut behind him. Scratching his scalp through his spiky hair, he muttered nonsense to himself and leaned against the wall.

"Well?"

Jun glanced up. Orin was there, watching him expectedly. Shaking his head, he said, "She's getting worse. Bandage is coming off."

The cat's mouth turned into a pensive frown. "It'd probably better if it did. It's just hurting her at this point."

Jun's eyes narrowed. "And let her slip back to how she was before?" he growled. "Lose her conscious mind entirely?"

"She was getting it back. Before all this went down."

Straightening up, Jun slowly advanced to tower over her, his ears slicked back and his canines fully displayed. "Well, maybe if you had never-"

Sighing, Orin shoved a hand against his chest, stopping him cold. "Jun, you're not going to keep blaming me for that, are you?"

"No," Jun sighed after a pause. There really wasn't a point to it anymore. Moving back to the wall, he hunkered down and leaned back against it, head gazing up at the windows set in the opposite wall. "But I still hate this. Satori's still gone, Koishi's getting worse every day, and there's not a damned thing we can do about it."

"What if you could?"

The voice was not Orin's, nor was it Koishi's, nor did it belong to any of the other pets. However, they both knew. Their hackles raising, Jun and Orin slowly turned to see one of the last people they wanted to see standing in their hallway.

"You," Jun snarled.

To her credit, Yukari Yakumo looked about as happy to be there as they were to see her. She folded her arms over her breast as she glowered back. "Yes. Me."

In one fluid motion, Jun rose up to his full, imposing height and stalked over to her. "You are not welcome-"

Suddenly something shoved against his chest, driving him back more than three meters. He was able to keep his feet, but it was a close thing. His sharp toenails slashed sparks across the floor.

"So I've been told," Yukari said coldly. "However, seeing how I outrank literally everyone in this country, that doesn't count for much, does it?"

Orin let out a low hiss. "What do you want?"

"Curiously enough, a chance for you to do something about your current predicament."

Straightening up, Jun tilted his head in a doglike look of puzzlement. "What?"

"I'm attacking the Garden of the Sun in two days' time," Yukari said bluntly. "Scorched earth, the whole thing is going away. And I plan on finding and rescuing your master in the process. However, I'm going to need some muscle."

Despite their long-standing animosity, the two pets of the Komejii family were united in their incredulity. "You can't be serious," Orin said.

"I can, actually. It just takes great force of will."

Jun all but roared, "After what happened last time, you dare ask-"

Suddenly he jerked back, hands going to his mouth. His upper lip had somehow stuck to his lower lip, and he couldn't free them. "Listen to me, lapdog," Yukari said as he struggled. "I am not asking. I am telling. Fun little fact: you little gaggle of 'pets' actually represent some of Gensokyo's most powerful animal youkai. Not the smartest, obviously enough, but the gods have been generous enough to provide compensation."

Of Satori's two pets, Orin was definitely the more patient, for as much as that was worth. But Yukari Yakumo had a special way of getting under her fur, and at that moment she had dug deep enough to strike bone. "Take that back," she said, her voice a low and dangerous whisper.

Unfortunately the rat can hiss at the tiger as much as it wants, and Yukari was as impressed as one might expect. She merely stared at Orin with a bored expression for a few moments before turning away.

"And while it might go without saying," she said, continuing her instructions as if the altercation had not taken place, "but I want the Hell-Raven along."

Traditionally, Jun and Orin did not get along. Orin was the favored pet of the Master and was thus the alpha. Jun was the favored pet of the Master's prodigal sister, and that technically made him the beta. That alone would put them at odds without bringing the complicated dynamics of the Komejii sisters' relationship. Still, when an outsider sought to intrude on their turf they stood united as one. And when one spoke of unleashing Utsuho upon the world, then they were of one mind as well. And their minds were clearly telling to fuck that shit. "WHAT!" they both cried, at exactly the same time and in exactly the same volume.

"She is easily the most powerful youkai here," Yukari said, shrugging off their protest. "In fact, she probably ranks in the top ten in all of Gensokyo, if we were judging based on firepower alone."

Orin gaped at her. She couldn't possibly be suggesting this, not after what happened last time. "But Orin is-"

"I don't care what mishaps she's caused in the past," Yukari said coldly. "If she is to be destructively clumsy, then we might as well point her in the direction of someone we don't mind losing."

Jun sputtered, "But Satori-"

"Is stuck in a piece of crystal," Yukari finished for him. "We break the crystal, and it doesn't matter what happens next. She will resurrect eventually, and we can just pick her up then."

All right, that was it. Orin stopped caring about how powerful, influential, and notoriously irritable Yukari Yakumo might be. She had heard enough of this lunacy. "Have you completely lost your mind?" Orin all but shrieked at her. "You want to set Satori's essence loose inside of a nuclear holocaust? What kind of crazy bitch are you?"

"SILENCE!"

The power of Yukari's command nearly drove both Orin and Jun to retake their animal forms simply out of an instinctive need to flee. It filled not only the hallways they were standing in, but the whole of the Palace of Earth Spirits. It rattled the windows in their frames. It rumbled deep in the castle's foundations. And it shut up any dissent immediately.

Looking from one stunned youkai to the other, Yukari said coldly, "I have not lost my mind. But speak to me in that manner again, and you will lose your ears. All four of them." She paused for a few moments to let that sink in before continuing. "Choose the strongest among you, including the bird, and be ready to move in two days' time." That said, she turned to go. Yukari waved one hand in the air, opening up one of her bizarre, ribbon-tied gaps. But before she stepped through, she held back just long enough to deliver one last reason to hate her. "Oh, and I suppose this ought to go without saying, but I've learned to never assume. Try anything funny, tell anyone outside of this palace or that addle-headed buffoon in that room over there, and Satori will still be rescued. But she'll return to this city as a homeless vagabond. Remember that."

Then she was gone.

Orin and Jun stood side by side, both staring in shock at the empty space Yukari had just inhabited. Shaking his big head in disbelief, Jun whispered hoarsely, "This isn't happening."

"Yeah," Orin sighed. "It is."

"So…what do we do?"

Orin's teeth curled back from her fangs. What could they do? They were backed into a corner by the dominant female. As much as it rankled her, if they wanted Satori back and Koishi to remain unharmed, they were left with no choice. "I guess we get ready for war."

…

Leaning back a bit, the Host shifted her legs around and crossed them in front of her. Resting her hands in her lap, she said "And where do I fall in this classification of yours?"

The Guest raised an eyebrow. "Now there's a suspicious tone."

"Well, you're an individual worthy of suspicion," said the Host. "Or did you think I haven't read into your history?"

The Guest sensually ran her tongue over her lips, as if she were deriving pleasure from their verbal sparring alone. "Give yourself credit, you have made up for lost time," she purred. "But to answer your question, you would definitely qualify as an ally."

The Host almost looked amused. "Now, why do I have trouble believing that?"

"Only you can answer that question, I'm afraid. Though if it sets your mind at ease, you at least have the option of saying 'no.'"

"Oh, do I?"

"Indeed," the Guest said, openly smirking. "The role I came to ask you to play isn't until later. For now, I have all the muscle I need."

…

The Ancient City – The Coal Nugget

2:34 PM

The Coal Nugget wasn't the glitziest of bars. Located down a flight of narrow stairs in an unmarked corner of one of the many back alleys, it was, by all appearances, little more than a hole in the wall establishment, frequented by nothing more than local ruffians and ne'er-do-wells. What few visitors to the Ancient City received never went anywhere near it, preferring the larger restaurants and taverns found on the main strip.

But despite its diminutive size, shoddy condition, and out of the way location, the Coal Nugget was still considered to be one of the cornerstones of the city. It was a crappy tough guy bar, yes, but the Ancient City boasted a high population of tough guys, all of whom enjoyed spending most of their evening drinking and fighting with friends. And the Coal Nugget was one of the oldest of such establishments, and had the best wine. That alone meant that it was held in high regard by the city's working class.

Naturally, that also made it one of the central hubs for town gossip. Practically every big story to hit the city was openly discussed and dissected in the Coal Nugget, quite often with fists involved. More than once, a radical shift in public opinion had its genesis there, depending on who had thrown the stiffest punch. City officials were known to keep a wary eye on the Nugget and its rough-and-tumble denizens, because they always seemed to be better informed than the actual authorities, and one never knew what might set them off.

As of late, the most common topic of conversation was Satori Komejii, or rather the Underground's lack thereof. Ever since her odd disappearance early in the spring, the grumblings that usually accompanied her name had only grown louder and more frequent. And when Rin Satsuki had ran rampant through the market, they had only gotten worse, to the point where only the philanthropic efforts of Byakuren Hijiri and Kanako Yasaka had prevented open violence.

Of course, once Koishi Komejii had broken down and the truth had come to light, the tone of the discussions had changed drastically. Satori Komejii was still at the center of it all, but the words her people had for her were no longer so harsh. After all, another name had entered the conversation, and they were more than happy to direct their rancor toward her instead.

Such was the case one moody Saturday evening. Per usual, the Coal Nugget was packed, though for once there were no raised voices or fisticuffs. Everyone was gathered into their little groups, cramming around tables, leaning towards each other over the bar, or huddled in the booths set into the alcoves along the wall. Mugs and bottles were cupped in their hands, but there wasn't much drinking. It had become a den of whispers.

Yuugi Hoshiguma, the blacksmith, was sitting at the bar with two of her friends, who were busy getting her brought up to speed. Lately, she had been busy assisting in the cleanup at the Youkai Mountain, but had rushed home as soon as she had heard about what had happened in front of the Palace of Earth Spirits.

"Nuts," said Massa Ashina, a slope-browed Mujina. She leaned over the bar to press up closely to Yuugi, her salt-and-pepper cowlick drooping in front of her face. "That's what it was. Friggin' nuts."

"You don't say," Yuugi said. She flicked Massa's cowlick away before it could dip into her mug.

"Yeah, I couldn't believe it neither," said the other, a gnarled looking fairy named Yoshu. She was sitting cross-legged on the countertop to Yuugi's left. "There she was, breaking down. Just sobbing her eyes out. And she starts apologizing. Over and over, saying she's sorry."

Yuugi wrinkled her nose at that. As an Oni, she had certain views concerning such behavior. But this was not the time or place for such comments. "So this whole time she was covering for Satori?"

"Looks like," Yoshu muttered bitterly. She had a long straw and was nursing a bowl of sake in her lap that was the size of a sink to her. "I dunno what to think. I mean, your own sister, taken by a friggin' flower. The hell are you supposed to do about that?"

Yuugi's lip curled in a snarl. She wasn't as prejudiced against Overworlders as some were. Hell, many of her friends had come from above ground, and she still had fond memories of her adventuring days back when the Four Devas were still together. But she was still an Underworlder at heart. As such, when one of her people was victimized by an Overworlder, she tended to take it a little personally. "Do about it? I'll tell you what you do about it! Someone goes and hurts your family, you go and hurt them back! What's so complicated about that?"

"Yeah, but she's a Satori, and a crazy one to boot," Massa pointed out. "They're a bunch of nosy wimps. What the hell is she supposed to do against Yuuka Kazami?"

"Something!" Yuugi declared, as if it were the most obvious thing. "Who cares if the asshole is bigger and badder than you? You still gotta go teach them that you ain't gonna take that disrespect lying down!"

"Then why's we lyin' down?"

The speaker wasn't one of the trio. Yuugi turned in her seat to look toward the only person in the bar sitting by herself.

Vilt was one of Yuugi's longest-standing acquaintances. They weren't friends, per se, but the walked in many of the same circles, which made them something of a fixture in each other's lives. Still, the fact that the two oni women were complete opposites had always prevented them from making that final steps to an actual friendship. Yuugi's body was thick with toned muscle, whereas Vilt was so emaciated that those who met her for the first time often became concerned that she might have an eating disorder. Yuugi preferred to dress in plain, modest clothing, while Vilt wore a collection of heavy chains arranged in interesting ways and little else. Yuugi was friendly, boisterous, and outgoing, while Vilt was often dour, brooding, and preferred to keep to herself.

There was no actual dislike between the two of them. They would greet each other politely when they ran into one another and had no problem holding a conversation. But in the end, they simply preferred the company of others. There was nothing personal about it, it was just the way things were. But still, they did run into each other a lot, and always seemed to end up at the same events. Such as tonight.

Pushing her drink away, Yuuka turned in her seat to give the sour-faced oni her attention. "You got something to say there, Vilt?"

"Yeah, I do," Vilt muttered as she took a long drink from her bottle. "What the hell are we doing here?"

Thought there were many other conversations taking place and Vilt was far from the loudest voice in the bar, something about her tone drew curious looks from those nearby. More than one discussion hushed up so those participating could listen.

"Doing here?" Yuugi frowned. "What does it look like we're doing?"

"Looks like a whole lot of talking and not a whole lot of doing," Vilt said in disdain. "I mean, that fucking flower took our beloved boss away, and we're just gonna sit around whining about it?"

More conversations were coming to a stop, and more eyes were turning toward the bar. Whether she knew it or not, Vilt's drunken ranting was gathering an audience. But then, it usually did.

Leaning forward a bit with one arm on the counter and the other draped across her knee, Yuugi said, "And what do you call what you're doing, 'cept for sitting around whining?"

"Ha! At least I'm not thinking that it's gonna fix anything." Wiping a foam mustache from her thin lips, Vilt declared, "You wanna know what I think?"

"Tell me," Yuugi said neutrally.

"Face it, blacksmith. We got our asses duped. All of us. We're just a bunch of suckers. They're laughing at us up there. And damn, but we deserve it."

From one of the tables, Milda the warrior fairy sneered, "Vilt, you planning on saying anything that makes sense, or do we need to bounce your ass out of here and-"

"The Overworlders!" Vilt shouted, her voice rising above the hubbub that remained. The rest of it quieted down then as everyone's attention drifted over to the angry oni. "They're playing us again, and we're letting them!"

"Who, Yuuka Kazami?" someone said. "We know that, you stupid twit! That's what this is all-"

"Forget Yuuka, I'm talking about all of them! Think! Koishi Komeji went and told us that Satori's been held over in that big flowerpot for weeks, but none of them did anything about it! You think none of them knew? The hell they didn't!" Vilt slammed her bottle into the table, making all the dishes and glasses jump. "They knew, they all knew, and they didn't do a damned thing! They just left us in the friggin' dark and left us to bicker and tear ourselves apart!"

Massa sighed heavily. "Vilt, you say a lot of stupid things, but this-"

"No, she's talking sense!" someone else interrupted. "Someone had to know. Why didn't any of our fine Overworlder friends let us know?"

"Exactly!" Vilt said triumphantly. "None of them so much as sent us a letter! One of their own takes one of ours, and they don't tell us a damned thing!"

"Yuuka's not really-"

"And why was Satori even going to Yuuka in the first place?" Vilt demanded of all those gathered. "Oh right, because of Overworld business! She was the one being a good neighbor and all, putting herself in danger to help them with their problem, and they just leave us hanging out to dry! And when their little problem drops out of the friggin' roof and goes and wrecks the place, did anything of them so much as send a Get Well Soon card?"

"Yeah, Kanako Yasaka and Byakuren Myouren," Yuugi told her. "Remember all the help they gave us?"

Vilt just shrugged. "All right, all right, so they did. But they don't really count. Kanako's a snake goddess, and that practically makes her an Underworlder anyway. And even them Overworlders admit that Byakuren's different from all of them. But where was the rest of them? Where the hell was them Moon people that made the shapeshifting freak to begin with? Did they send any help? What about them damned Kirin? Heard it was supposed to be one of theirs. Did they go and do anything? No! They just let our Satori get taken, and when her sister nobly put her mind and body at risk to help, they just stand back and let her!"

"But Yukari Yakumo-"

"Yukari? Yukari? Fuck Yukari!" That got everyone's attention. Yukari Yakumo was not much loved in the Underworld, but one didn't simply curse the name of Gensokyo's creator without good cause. "What'd she ever do for us? Her and her Overworld friends, they use us and forget us! Where's her big rescue plan, huh? Her little shrine maid of a fuckbuddy so much as stubs her nose, and she comes running! Their great big sky starts acting all funny, you can bet she gets the damned thing fixed by the end of the day. But another Overworld youkai goes and takes our godsdamned boss, does she do anything? No! 'Screw them Underworlders, I never liked them anyway!' Bet'cha anything that's what she said."

The murmurs grew louder, punctuate with the occasional shout of agreement. Yuugi scowled. Yukari Yakumo was Suika's friend, sure. But Vilt was right about her taking her own sweet time in enacting Satori's rescue. And she didn't believe for a second that Yukari the great and powerful had been ignorant of Satori's plight.

"And what's more!" Vilt declared as she jumped to her feet, her many chains clattering. "I bet they all knew about Koishi too! How could they not? Kid goes and puts her friggin' brain on the line to protect her sister's honor, and they were probably just sitting back and laughing! No wonder she had a breakdown! Her all alone trying to keep things running while they did nothing!" She slammed her fist into the counter's top. It didn't break, but then it had been specially designed with drunk oni in mind. But the sound the impact made was impressive nevertheless. "Well, no more I say!"

"Yeah!"

"Preach it, sister!"

"Exactly!" Vilt shouted to her rapt congregation. "So, here's what I say we do. We go and show those damned Overworlders that we're not a buncho of complacent idiots! I'm sick of them coming down here and making a ruckus! So how 'bout we switch things up a bit? We go up there and pluck us a few flowers." The crowd cheered, and the manic light in Vilt's eyes grew brighter. "Yeah, we show that Yuuka Kazami that the Underworld ain't gonna stand back and let this insult slide. She hurt one of our own, and we look after our own! Yukari don't wanna do anything, well we'll just go and solve her problem for her when we pull down that damned garden down into the dark and feed it to the fires of Hell!"

The cheers grew louder as mugs crashed into one another and promises of violence mingled together.

Then Yuugi's palm slammed into the counter, and the room fell silent.

Slipping from her stool, Yuugi stomped over to look Vilt in the eye. The two oni women glowered at one another, their noses practically touching.

"Yeah?" Vilt said defiantly. "You got something to say, Yuugi?"

Folding her arms over her massive breasts, Yuugi nodded once. Then she said, "Vilt?"

"Yeah?"

"Finally you're talking sense."

Vilt blinked once. Then she grinned and held up her fist. Returning the grin, Yuugi rapped it with her own as the crowd roared their approval.

The Coal Nugget was not large, pretty, or at all impressive to look at. But then, neither was a match. And the residents of the Ancient City made for a lot of brushwood.

…

Were the discussion being observed by an outsider, they might have suggested that the Guest adopt a different tactic of persuasion, because if she meant for her Host to be convinced that she was not to be stuffed into a cannon with the rest of the unwitting fodder, then in this she clearly failed. The Host's grey eyes were wholly disbelieving, and her folded arms spoke of her lack of amusement and waning patience. "And what happens if I say 'no,' pray tell?" she said, her tone dry enough to parch.

Intentionally oblivious to the irritation being sent her way, the Guest merely shrugged and said, "Then I leave you and go to someone else."

"That's it?"

"That's it," the Guest said with a nod. She leaned forward a bit, one elbow propped up on the tabletop and her cheek resting in her palm while the other hand idly picked up sugar cubes and crumpled them into a small pile of sparkling grains, one by one. "Understand me, if you were to agree to my terms, it would be extremely convenient. But there are lesser but still suitable options available. I would prefer to work with you, but they will do."

To this, the Host frowned a bit. "Who, another Ringleader?" she said, a bit of curiosity leaking into the mask of indifference she had been wearing.

The Guest looked like she had just encountered a particularly foul odor. "The Ringleaders?" She snorted and shook her head. "Oh, that is rich. Setting aside the fact that the only ones with enough brains to be of any use openly hate and/or distrust me, those idiots are a detriment to any sort of plan. I mean, have you see what happens if you put two of them in the same room together?"

…

The Youkai Mountain – Hatanka Headquarters

12:11 PM

The offices of the Momiji Inubashiri's Hatanka Tengu were contained within a series of caverns halfway up the Youkai Mountain, on a stone shelf just to the right of the Great Waterfall. It was a bit rough compared to the extravagant towers that crowned the mountain, but honestly Momiji and the rest of her white wolves preferred it that way. Too much comfort lead to complacence, and they had to remain ever vigilant. One never knew when unwanted intruders might be sneaking their way up toward the city.

(Though ironically enough, the same underground stream that flowed through the Hatanka's headquarters and provided their water source later branched off into a series of rivulets that trickled their way through the mountains many tunnels and holes before finally pouring into a pool hidden within a cavern at the mountain's base. A cavern that had been, until very recently, inhabited by one of Gensokyo's more notorious youkai gangs, one that was a particular source of annoyance for the Hatanka. If Momiji had ever found out that both they and her warriors were sharing the same water source, she would have thrown a fit)

At any rate though, the Hatanka actually didn't have a whole lot to do. Things were peaceful enough these days that most of their problems came from within, and it was the responsibility of the crow Tengu to deal with their own. That muddle with the robots, the fire, and the glowing blue dome of flowers had been the most excitement that they had seen in years, and to be quite frank, Momiji much preferred the quiet. Let the birds and the turtles go out in search for adventures. It was Momiji's job to keep the peace, and she liked knowing that she was doing a good job.

As it so happened, on this particular day a certain disruption to Momiji's peace was finally going to be removed. She sat at her desk in the foremost cavern, dutifully typing away at her old but reliable typewriter while a long-horned gramophone cranked out soothing jazz in a corner. Combined with the rhythmic clacking of the keys and the white noise of the waterfall, the resulting ambience had long sent Momiji's mind cruising on automatic. Even so, she snapped out of it the moment a few familiar faces walked into the room. "Oh, Captain Sonozika!" she greeted the newcomers. "Good afternoon. I hope the trip here was uneventful."

Kotohime nodded. Her face looked worn and strained, as were those of her deputies. "Captain Inubashiri. I'm sorry about this, but there's been a complication."

"A complication?" Momiji blinked. Pushing the typewriter aside, she said, "What kind of-"

Then the answer was revealed to her. A tall and thin Human man entered behind Kotohime, flanked by four silent and grim-faced guards. He was well along in years, with a neatly trimmed beard that was more salt than pepper. Though his hair still hung long down the back, it had mostly receded from the front, revealing a heavily furrowed brow dotted with liver spots. His cheekbones were sharp enough to cut flesh, and his scowl was severe enough to violate spellcard rules. Still, despite his age, his posture was straight, and he walked without impairment. He wore a traditionally cut robe of blue and yellow, with a sheathed sword at his side. By all appearances, he was a feudal Japanese lord, having walked straight out of the tapestries. This was marred somewhat by the thick pair of sunglasses he wore though.

Momiji knew him instantly. She had never met him, but his face graced her people's papers often enough, with varying degrees of caricature. And his presence here could only mean that her peace was about to be very disturbed.

"-oh," she said.

Master Sonozika, Leader of the Human Village, focused his arguably lethal glare in her direction. "Dog," he said. "You have something of mine. I want it back."

Despite knowing exactly what to expect from Master Sonozika, Momiji still bristled. Slurs were one thing, but showing up unannounced and throwing them at her in her own office broke multiple levels of etiquette.

Fortunately, Kotohime leapt in before Momiji's temper got the best of her. "Master Sonozika, I must remind you that we are within the sanctity of the Youkai Mountain, thus making us guests of the Tengu," she coldly told her uncle. "Therefore, I must insist on a certain baseline of respect during our duration here." She nodded toward the seated wolf Tengu. "This is Momiji Inubashiri, captain of the Hatanka Tengu class."

Unfortunately, rather than recollect his missing manners, Master Sonozika only sneered. "If I wished to know its name, then I would have asked."

In the silence that fell, the music from the gramophone and the water falling outside became almost deafening. Kotohime's face was turning bright red in mortification, and even her deputies looked shocked at their Leader's open disrespect. As for Master Sonozika himself, he simply glowered at his niece with no sign of repentance.

Momiji mentally reviewed the trouble she would cause for her goddess should she violate the rules of hospitality and attack another community's leader. It was a long list, and really was the only thing keeping her from lashing out. To be truthful, she had doubted the tales Kotohime and various rumors had told her about Master Sonozika's attitude problems. Now she had no doubts.

Fortunately, Momiji was saved again. A silhouette suddenly filled the cavern's entrance, blocking out the sunlight, and a melodic, yet commanding, voice spoke out. "If you wish to leave this room with anything resembling a face, I suggest you take your niece's advice." Kanako Yasaka entered the room, her reptilian eyes narrowed with displeasure. "I do not care to have my people disrespected in my home."

Momiji breathed out a small sigh of relief. In contrast, though they had been completely stoic until now, Master Sonozika's guards now started displaying signs of uneasiness, and more than one hand went to their spellcard pouches or sword hilts. As for Kotohime, she tried to hide the smirk that was now forming, but did a poor job of it.

Though to Master Sonozika's credit, if he was at all taken back by the goddess's sudden appearance, he hid it well. "Lady Yasaka," he greeted her with a slight incline of his head. "I wasn't expecting you to be here."

Kanako did not return the nod. Folding her arms over her chest, she glared daggers at the man. Unlike everyone else in the room, she towered a full half-a-head over him. "Nor I, you. And yet here we are."

"Hmmm." Master Sonozika slipped his hands into the opposite sleeves. "And forgive me for assuming, but did you just threaten me?"

Kanako's lips peeled back. It was not a smile, but it did show a hint of her snakelike fangs. "Call it a friendly reminder of the laws of hospitality. There are wild youkai that I would expect better manners from once they had entered my home. What is more, they would give them to me."

The tension in the cavern thickened to the point where one could almost touch it. The sound of rapidly beating hearts joined the music and the waterfall.

For a moment, the lines in Master Sonozika's brow deepened. But despite his prejudices, the man was no idiot. Letting out a disgruntled grunt, he looked away. "Point taken," he grumbled. "I withdraw the comment. But in regards to-"

Kanako held up a finger, silencing him. "The insult was not made to me, Master Sonozika."

A bit of color touched Master Sonozika's waxy cheeks. He turned to look at Momiji. The white wolf did not like the attention one bit, but her goddess was present. So she simply sat where she was and returned the look without flinching.

Then Master Sonozika sighed and said, "Captain Inubashiri, I apologize for the disrespect."

The apology was obviously reluctant and not entirely sincere, but now was not the time to split hairs. So Momiji simply nodded and said, "A-accepted."

"Good," Kanako said. Walking right past Master Sonozika, she sat down on the desk, crossed her legs, and folded her hands over her knee. "Now that we have gotten past that, what can we do for you?"

Though his eyes were now on a higher level than the goddess's, it was clear to everyone that the balance of power had not shifted in the slightest. Chewing a bit on his lower lip, Master Sonozika said, "You are currently holding two residents of the Human Village hostage. I have come here to take them back."

Kanako shrugged. "I assume you received my correspondence?"

"I did."

"Then you know my terms."

"I do." Then Master Sonozika reached up and removed his sunglasses, revealing a pair of startlingly sky-blue eyes. "And I have a problem with them."

"Is that right? And what might be?"

Master Sonozika shook his head. "No. I refuse to discuss this matter further with those unnecessary ears present."

Momiji's own canine ears twitched.

Kanako sighed. She glanced first to Momiji, and then to the GPF officers. "Excuse us for a moment, please."

Momiji couldn't help but squirm. She exchanged a quick glance with Kotohime, who merely shrugged. Still, a request from her goddess was not lightly ignored. She stood up and walked from the room. After a moment of hesitation, Kotohime and her deputies did the same.

Once they were gone, Kanako indicated Master Sonozika's guards. "Them too."

"I think not."

Kanako tilted her head to one side. "Do you honestly expect to be attacked here?"

"Yes."

To this, the goddess of the Youkai Mountain merely shrugged. "Then I'm afraid we have nothing more to discuss. If you insist that my people and the legally neutral third party cannot be present, then your retainers will have to leave as well."

"Is that-"

"Master Sonozika, do not mistake me," Kanako said, her voice lowering to a dangerous hiss. She stood back up to her full height, and as she did so, the light in the room noticeably dimmed, and Kanako's eyes took on an eerily green glow. The song coming out of the gramophone suddenly stopped in mid-note, and was replaced with a more somber, even sinister tune. "I am in no mood for games. This is my mountain, and so what I say goes. If you wish to speak to me in private, then it will be in private. Otherwise, feel free to turn around and get the hell out of my territory. The Asakura sisters are quite comfortable where they are, and they will stay there until my demands are met. Are. We. Clear?"

The veins in Master Sonozika's neck tightened. His jaw shifted back and forth, his teeth gnashing together. Unmoved, Kanako simply stared unblinking into his eyes and waited.

Finally Master Sonozika glanced over to his guards and gave a slight nod. One by one they silently filed out of the cavern to the outside. Kanako relaxed just a bit, and the lights returned.

Once the two Ringleaders were truly alone, Kanako sat down in Momiji's chair. She indicated the guest chair on the opposite side of the desk. Master Sonozika sighed, but sat down.

"Now then, what exactly is the problem?" Kanako said. She folded her hands on the top of the desk.

"The problem is that you took two of my people and are holding them against their will," Master Sonozika said. "Not only that, but you have demanded a ridiculous amount of money for their return."

"You are aware that the Asakura sisters not only willing trespassed on my territory, but did so when it was under heavy quarantine."

"So your message claimed."

"Not a claim," Kanako said, her voice calm but full of steel. "A fact, one that has been verified by multiple eyewitnesses and is on record with not only my people, but the GPF and Yukari Yakumo herself."

Master Sonozika's lips curled in a sneer.

Ignoring this, Kanako continued. "Furthermore, they fired unprovoked upon my Hatanka, using non-spellcard certified explosives. While I am aware that they were not representing the interests of the Human Village, that can be considered an act of war."

"Such an attack would hardly be dangerous to your kind," Master Sonozika said coldly.

"Not my kind, but still my people," Kanako gently corrected. "And neither would an open-handed slap, but walking into someone's house and striking them across the face is still a grave insult, especially when that someone is a goddess."

"Your tone seems hostile," Master Sonozika observed. "Hardly becoming for an Outsider."

Kanako smiled dangerously. "Master Sonozika, I know that I have not been in Gensokyo long, whereas you are native-born. I also know that your family is one of great influence and commands respect." She leaned over the table, her slitted eyes burrowing deep into Master Sonozika's icy blue gaze. "However, I have been a goddess for nearly as long as this country has existed. I first met your family's forbearers when they came to pay homage to me. And one thing that has carried over to Gensokyo from Japan is that children are expected to respect their elders." There was a heavy pause while Master Sonozika digested this, then Kanako said, "Do not test me, little man. I have little patience for these games as it is."

The noise that came out of Master Sonozika's nose resembled that of a deflating balloon. He growled from deep in his chest, but gave a very slight nod. "Very well." Turning in his seat, he called out, "Magna, the chest."

One of his guards reentered the room, and Kanako frowned. The guard carried a medium-sized chest. Bowing, she walked over and set it down on the table and opened it.

Kanako quickly scanned its contents before raising her eyes to Master Sonozika. "You came with the exact amount?"

In answer, Master Sonozika leaned back with a grunt. "My views concerning the inhabitants of this mountain and their kin are well-known, and I have no intention of altering them," he said. "However, in this specific case, I cannot deny that the Asakura sisters were in the wrong, and as their leader, it falls to me to make reparations for their actions."

"Well. That's surprisingly mature of you, Master Sonozika," Kanako said, her right eyebrow arching up. She reached over and closed the chest. "Though if you were already going to simply admit your people's wrongdoing and pay what I asked for, you could have done so without the passive-aggressiveness."

"I do my job. That does not mean I have to be pleasant about it," was his curt reply. Then he stood up and glowered down at her. "Now, where are my people?"

…

"May you die without water, cretins!"

Sitting next to each other on their cell's solitary stone bench, Rika and Rikako Asakura did their best not to look at one another and to ignore the constant torrent of verbal abuse coming from the cell opposite of theirs.

The two of them had been moldering away in the Hatanka's prison ever since that horrible, horrible debacle that had lost them their Strutter and their freedom. Apparently, thanks to some sort of territory rule or whatever, they were the legal prisoners of the Tengu rather than more logical options like the GPF. Hell, considering what had happened the last time her experiments had run amok, Rika had expected to just be admonished by Reimu Hakurei and sent home. But apparently, the crows, dogs, and turtles were born with metal rods shoved straight up their sphincters, and since the Human Village seemed content to take their sweet, precious time to negotiate their release, the two of them had been left to rot in what essentially amounted to a rough little cavity with a couple cots, a bench, and a bucket that wasn't changed nearly as often for their liking. Clearly, this was not going to be their proudest memory, even if it was doomed to be a particularly vivid one.

"May the sand-mites feast upon your marrow and the crabs infest your nether-regions!"

But that was far from the worst of it. Apparently being left in disgrace without proper amenities, proper sanitation, bedding so hard that sleep was all but impossible, insufficient lighting, and food so tasteless that it was impossible to distinguish from the paste they had used as glue back at their workshop wasn't enough. Now the Tengu had moved on to torture as well.

That morning, Rika and Rikako had been pulled from their cell without warning or explanation and hauled into another part of the cavern. This had filled them with equal parts hope and dread. Were they being released? Were they being taken to their execution? Interrogation? To be dragged into the center of town for all to see and then tarred and feathered and ran off the mountain on a splintery rail?

But no. As it turned out, the cruelty of the Tengu was far worse than anything they could have imagined, and far more creative. Instead, they were taken to a new cell, this one a few levels up and practically near the prison's exit. In appearance, it was identical to the one they had left, but with one significant difference: it was directly across the cell containing the Kappa that had built and piloted that bipedal mecha that had delivered the murdering blow to the Strutter. And as soon as Nitori had realized that they were there, she had been sending an unceasing torrent of verbal abuse in their direction. It had started early that morning, and thus far she had yet to run out of steam.

Well, if her voice didn't give out soon, then Rika was going to run out of sanity. The things she was saying were bad enough. The fact that she just wouldn't stop was almost physically painful. But the worst of it was Nitori's aggravatingly scratchy voice. It was like listening to granite slabs get dragged across chalkboard floors. She had tried pressing her fingers into her ears, covering them with her hands, and burying her face in her shirt, but to no avail.

"May your grandfather return from the dead to fuck your daughters, just to show how much your family hath been disgraced-"

All right, that was it. Rika didn't have a daughter, but she held her grandfather in high esteem. Turning to the Kappa, she snapped back in the annoying reptile's language, "Oh, shut your ugly mouth already!"

Nitori's head jerked back in surprise. Blinking, she leaned forward and asked, "Thou speaketh the tongue of the Kappa?"

Already Rika was regretting her outburst. Having to endure listening to this…thing was bad enough. Now she had to have a conversation. "I…hear it well," she said, trying to recall everything she knew about Kappa grammatical rules. Unfortunately, it had absolutely fuck all in common with Japanese, so just working her tongue around it was a chore. "Talked still raw…"

"Hard," Rikako corrected in a bored monotone. "And you're using the past tense of talk."

Great, just what she needed. Throwing her hands into the air in exasperation, Rika said, "Then you do it!"

Sighing, Rikako turned to Nitori and said in accented but still technically correct Kappa, "Our Kappa is rough, but we…" She frowned, trying to remember the next word. "Damn it…We understand enough."

"And we know your understand Japanese, so shut your trashy face already!"

"Oh," Nitori said, still looking quite taken back. Then she scowled and said in absolutely horrible Japanese, "Welshi, I isn't taking nothing off because hate still strong for you, 'cept maybe all bits on family debachuricalness, because no bodies be calling for that."

"I'm touched," Rika said dryly.

Nitori stared. "By what?"

"Forget it," Rika sighed.

Nitori still looked confused, but apparently didn't judge the matter worth pursuing. She sat in thoughtful silence for a time. Then she said in Kappa, "Though I must admit, that mechanical arachnid of yours was of an impressive design. Crude, maybe, when compared to my Hisoutensoku, but impressive nevertheless."

Rika blinked. A few of the longer words (and gods, what was it with Kappa and long words?) "Oh, uh, thanks?"

"Pray take no offense, but I was unaware that Humankind was even capable of that level of construction," Nitori said. She leaned forward a bit, her blue eyes shining with interest. "Tell me: was that flame weapon of yours really chemically based, or was it a simple trick of magic?"

Rikako perked up then. "Oh no. No magic," she said eagerly. "Well, mostly no magic. We did cheat here and there. But yeah, that flamethrower was completely chemical. We stole a lot of Outside World designs and, uh, put them to good use."

Rika nodded enthusiastically. After all, nothing tore down walls like talking shop. "Same with the missiles. Rocket-propelled, with radio guidance. And we used good old-fashioned gunpower for the warhead."

"Well, bless my unerring creativity," Nitori said. "I must say, they weren't half bad."

"Neither was yours," Rikako said. "We went with an arachnid design for weight distribution. How'd you managed to get a fully bipedal android to work like that?"

"Oh, it really was quite simple!" Nitori said, her voice rising in excitement. "You see, I-"

Suddenly the Kappa cut herself off in midsentence. She blinked a few times, and then scowled. "Do not allow my complimentary words stir deception within your hearts. I still hold you both in contempt."

Rika had no issue with matching her glare for glare. "Yeah?" She held up one hand to display a universally rude gesture. "Well, straight back at you!"

A sulking silence fell. Both Rika and Nitori glowered a bit, and then folded their arms, crossed their legs, and turned to face the walls of their cells. As for Rikako, she just looked disappointed that their friendly chat had died in the womb.

The elder Asakura glanced from her sister to the captive Kappa. She twiddled her fingers a bit, sighed, thought screw it, and tentatively tried again. "So…how did you manage to-"

Alas her diplomatic efforts were summarily cut off. At that moment, the door to the jail was flung open, and Momiji Inubashiri entered, flanked by three of her white wolf Tengu. Everyone behind bars immediately stiffened as the quartet marched over and stood in between the two cells.

"You two," Momiji said to the Asakuras. "Get up."

"What?" Rikako said in bewilderment. Then she caught the look in the wolf's eyes and decided that asking questions wasn't in their best interests and quickly stood up. "Uh, okay."

Momiji unlocked the cell, and her wolves quickly jostled the two Human women's arms behind their backs and slapped a set of steel restraints on each.

"Hey, what is this?" Rika complained as the locks clicked into place.

Ignoring the question, the wolf standing behind her turned her toward the door and gave her a shove. "Get moving."

Rika stumbled a bit but otherwise refused to budge. "Forget it!" she snapped. "We're not going anywhere until we've talked to our lawyer!"

A trickle of fear leaked down into Rikako's stomach. "Rika, shut up!" she snapped.

"But we haven't talked to our-"

"There are exactly two lawyers in the whole of the Human Village, and they both hate us!" Rikako hissed. "So unless you want a Tengu representing us after what we did to their field, shut the hell up!"

"You're being released," Momiji calmly told the pair.

Rika's eyes snapped wide open. "We are?" Then, deciding not to question their good fortune, she just shrugged. "Oh, well screw the lawyer. Lead on."

In this the wolves complied, though their idea of "leading" turned out to consist of grabbing the sisters by the shoulders and moving them out of the cell and down the hall.

"Hey!" Rika said, reflexively trying to jerk away. "Not so rough! Come on, knock it off!"

Rikako just sighed and obediently walked on without complaint. Then she caught a glance of Nitori staring at them as they passed by.

Hanging back a bit, Rikako quickly said to the Kappa, "Uh, keep in touch, okay? We'd love to work with you."

"Shut up," the wolf leading her said as he muscled her away from Nitori's cell.

"No hard feelings!" Rikako called over her shoulder to Nitori. "Really!" And with that, the Humans and the Tengu marched out of the jail and the door slammed shut.

Now left alone, Nitori sat on her bench and thoughtfully reviewed what had just happened. Her brow furrowed, and she sighed.

"What a truly perplexing pair of individuals," she said to herself.

…

Kanako and Master Sonozika stood or sat silently in place, neither of them moving, neither of their gazes wandering from that of the other. If either of them were at all uncomfortable by the hostility being sent their way, they didn't show it. That, or their pride was causing them to double-down and return two-fold.

If allowed, their private staring contest might have continued until both sets of eyes had dried beyond use. However, it did not take long for them to receive word that the Humans purpose for visiting was on its way. After all, they could hear it long before it actually arrived.

"…oh, don't think I don't know where your hands are going, and I swear to all the gods that if they start heading south, then I will godsdamned bite off all of your stupid dog ears and-"

Rikako, who was a little more aware of her surrounding then her sister, went pale when she saw who was waiting for them. "Rika. Shut. Up," she said.

Rika looked up. Then, seeing that they were now in the same room with their village's notoriously humorless Leader and the mountain's goddess, her face took on the same color as Rikako's. "Oh crap," she whispered.

Kananko nodded to them. "Well, good afternoon, ladies. I trust that oath you just swore to me was not meant to be taken literally."

"What?" Rika said. Then she remembered her ranting and almost peed herself. "Oh, o-of course not! Just…just letting off steam, is all. Temper got away from me, you know how it is."

"I do indeed." Kanako glanced over to the Leader of the Human Village. "Well there, Sonozika. They're all yours."

Master Sonozika barely glanced at them. "Kotohime. Inspect them for injuries," he said.

Kotohime's lips thinned out. Realizing why, Kanako loudly cleared her throat.

Sighing, Master Sonozika amended, "Fine. Captain Sonozika, if you would be so kind as to make sure-"

"Blair. Kelso," Kotohime said to her deputies.

Blair nodded. "Yes, ma'am." He and his brother started to make their way over to the handcuffed Asakura sisters. However, realizing what was about to happen, the two incarcerated scientists blanched.

"No, hey, keep your hands to yourself!" Rika cried as she flinched back. "We're fine! No injuries! Promise!"

"Do it," Master Sonozika growled.

"Take it easy, we're not going to touch you," Blair said as he pulled out a small, charmed rod. "Just going to use a little scanning spell here."

Rika eyed the rod with the type of suspicion those scientifically minded usually held for magic. "Okay, but if that thing so much as pokes me, I'm popping you in the kisser!"

Sighing, Kanako glanced over to Master Sonozika. "All right. Satisfied?"

"Nothing about this satisfies me," he said coldly.

"I'll take that as a 'yes' then."

"They're clear, captain," Kelso announced, having finished checking on Rikako. After a brief moment, he winced and added, "And…Master Sonozika."

"Good to hear," Master Sonozika said.

Glancing nervously about, Rika said, "So, that's it? We're free to go?"

"Rika," her sister groaned. "Seriously. Shut up."

"Free to go?" Arching a thin, silver eyebrow, Master Sonozika placed his sunglasses back on. "I think not."

Rika stiffened. "What?"

"Your actions have brought disgrace and dishonor upon the Human Village, and have place me in a severely irritating position," Master Sonozika told them. "As far as I'm concerned, a few weeks in a Tengu cell is far from sufficient. So I'm taking you home where you'll be presented before the mercy of a proper Human court."

Kanako folded her arms. "Namely yourself."

"Well, yes," Master Sonozika shrugged. "We're a small community." He motioned with one hand. "Take them away."

The Asakuras sputtered, but were unable to form any coherent protests as two of Master Sonozika's guards took them from Momiji and her Hatanka and escorted them from the room.

"Then that takes care of that, I guess," Kanako said.

"I suppose so," Master Sonozika grunted. He reached up to scratch one leathery cheek. "Though I must ask: whatever became of the Strutter?"

"Scrapped, I'm afraid," Kanako said, though she sounded not at all apologetic. "The damage it took from the fight and Yuuka Kazami's plants rendered it irreparable. We're considering just melting it down and-"

"That you will not do."

Kanako blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Regardless of how it was used, the Strutter is still the property of the Human Village," Master Sonozika informed her. "It will be returned."

Kanako pursed her lips. "Master Sonozika, if you're worried about its technology being misused by our engineers, then I assure you that there is nothing in its construction that we don't already know how to create, and-"

"It's not a matter of secrets or assets, it's a matter of principle," Master Sonozika said, interrupting her yet again. "We have already repaid you for the damage, so you will return what is ours."

Fidgeting in discomfort, Kotohime cleared her throat. "Uncle…"

"Master Sonozika," her uncle corrected her.

Kanako's eyes narrowed. "I'm not exactly comfortable with returning the weapon that wrecked my property to those responsible."

"You just said it was damaged beyond repair," Master Sonozika replied. "Besides, according to the GPF's report, the majority of the landscape was actually destroyed by the rouge Celestial, and the Stutter itself did not become an actual threat until its repossession by Yuuka Kazami."

This made the goddess sigh. As much as she hated to admit it, he wasn't wrong. "Very well, we'll arranged for its remains to be transported. However, understand that if those two decide to drive that thing anywhere near my territory, there won't be enough of it to ship back." A low, snakelike hiss permeated from her lips. "Or them."

"I understand," Master Sonozika grunted. "Then we are finished then."

"I suppose we are." Kanako gave a polite incline of her head. "Thank you for your cooperation in this matter."

Though his scowl remained as perpetual as ever, Master Sonozika returned the gesture. He was even considerate enough to deepen it by a couple of centimeters. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

As he was turning to leave, Momiji suddenly reentered the room, a troubled look on her face. Following behind her was another familiar face, one wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a look of helpless resignation.

Iku Nagae the oarfish had been visiting the Youkai Mountain off and on ever since Tenshi Hinanai had woken up, mostly to check up on her. Each time, she had brought a letter from her parents for Kanako. They had all been the same: nearly identical demands for Tenshi and the weapons she had been carrying to be returned at once. And each time, Kanako had sent word back reminding them that their daughter was being lawfully held as a result of the massive damage and suffering she had caused, and as such Heaven now owed the Youkai Mountain massive repayments. Predictably, every time Iku Nagae had irritably returned with an answer, her demands were not even acknowledged.

However, it really had only been a matter of time. Kanako had met the King and Queen of Gensokyo's Heaven only once, but in that short exchange she had gotten a good measure of what sort of people they were. Sooner or later, they would crack.

Momiji marched up to her goddess and saluted. "Lady Yasaka, my your name be praised and your miracles be celebrated, forgive me for this intrusion, but-"

"Not at all, the Human Leader was just leaving," Kanako said. Nodding to her guest, she said, "Lady Nagae, I greet you. Would I be correct in assuming that you bear another message from Celestial Royal Court concerning their daughter?"

"Yeah, this is what I get for doing them a solid," Iku said grumpily. "They never say thank-you and always demand another."

Lingering a bit from curiosity, Master Sonozika observed, "Indeed. It seems odd that they would not come here in person, or at least send of their own. After all, your primary allegiance is to the Dragons, is it not?"

"Tell me something I don't already know," Iku sighed. She reached into a pouch and took out a smooth, blue stone. Holding it toward Kanako, she said, "Here. And everyone with sensitive hearing might want to cover their ears."

The stone hummed a bit, and from it a prissy, high-pitched voice issued out. "Is this Kanako Yasaka?"

Well, at least they had abandoned the paper correspondences for something more direct. That was a step in the right direction. "Queen Hinanai," Kanako said politely. "Greetings. I presume you received-"

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY DAUGHTER, YOU UNWANTED INTERLOPER?"

The gathered wolf Tengu had already been covering their sensitive ears, but they still were unable to keep from wincing as Queen Hinanai's shrieking voice bounced off the walls of the small cavern. The Humans were likewise affected, most of them rearing away with small groans of pain.

The only ones that seemed unaffected were Iku (who had thought ahead and wore a pair of specially made earplugs), Kanako (who was not shy about taking advantage of being a goddess), and Master Sonozika (who knows?). Even so, Kanako was still quite exasperated. "Your majesty, please. You know as well as I do that your daughter-"

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOUR EXCUSES!" the stone screeched. "YOU WILL SEND HER AND OUR TREASURES BACK THIS INSTANT, AND SO HELP ME IF ONE HAIR ON HER HEAD IS DAMAGED I WILL LAY THAT DIRT PILE YOU CALL A MOUNTAIN TO-"

"That you will not do," Kanako said coldly. "Your daughter is responsible for-"

"Excuse me, did you just INTERRUPT ME?" Queen Hinanai sounded shocked.

Smirking, Master Sonozika turned and left the cavern, his remaining entourage filing out behind him. As for the Hatanka Tengu and the GPF officers, they followed just as far as the stone balcony right outside of the Hatanka's headquarters, so as to lessen the voice's power over their ears. Then they stood and watched, fascinated.

Back inside, Kanako was not about to back down. "Yes, and I will do it again," she snapped.

"HOW DARE YOU-"

"Easily. You don't have a leg to stand on and you know it. Now, are you going to act like an adult or-"

"HOW DARE-"

Pressing a palm to her face, Kanako said, "Shut up and listen, you-"

"HOW DARE-"

Outside, Kotohime and Momiji glanced at each other with twin looks of disbelief. Thanks to their lines of work, they often had to put up with Gensokyo's notoriously temperamental figures of authority, and as such had born witness to all sorts of ridiculous behavior. But this was a whole new level entirely.

"Wow," Momiji said, her furry ears twitching. "So much for the serenity of the Celestials."

"Tell me about it," Kotohime said with a solemn nod. "And how bad to do you have to be when you make my uncle look calm and reasonable by comparison?"

…

Something of a stalemate seemed to have fallen between the master of the house and her surprise, unwanted, but still unrefused visitor. The Host sat with her head bowed, one hand lightly tapping against her lips as she thought, the other drumming out a rhythm against the opposite bicep. The Guest showed no emotion. She sat and she waited.

Finally, without looking up and without changing position, the Host asked the most crucial question. "Say I go along with this. How, exactly, will I profit from this?"

The Guest smiled. Got her. "You mean besides power, influence, and your long sought after immortality?" she said teasingly.

The Host looked up then, though just enough to cast a glare across the table. "Let's be blunt: I know you. I know how you operate. What you are doing will cost innocent lives. I know you don't care, but if you want me to soil my conscience, you're going to have to offer me something that I can't already acquire through other, less atrocious means."

"And how are those means working out for you?"

Uncrossing her legs, the Host shifted in her seat. "Current setbacks are not a guarantee of continued failure," she said, folding her hands on the table. "You know this."

"Touché," the Guest said with a shrug. All right, she had her on the hook. It was time to reel "her" in. "All right then, how about something a little more…personal? Say, the return of your little boy?"

"What?"

"Exactly what I said."

The Host stared in bewilderment. She hesitated for a moment, and then said, "All of my children have long lived out their natural lives. That is the way of things. I miss them, yes, but while I have no desire to share their fate, I am not about to wrench them from their rest."

"A very mature attitude to have," the Guest said approvingly. "But that's not the 'little boy' I was speaking of."

Then, with a waggle of her eyebrows, she glanced down at the table. Or rather, what was below it.

The Host blinked. Comprehension was dawning, and with it, her interest. "Ah," she said. Her lips thinned out. "I was…given to understand that the curse was reversible only by she who cast it."

"Close, but incorrect," the Guest shrugged. "Actually, the curse is only reversible by someone who knows how to reverse it. This seems obvious, but at the time, the witch-woman Madam Sadira was the only one who knew how to reverse it, hence the confusion. Now, given that she unfortunately departed this mortal veil of tears in a spectacularly violent fashion while you slept, that would seem to indicate that you are stuck the way you are." Her lips parted in a wide grin, one that those who were acquainted with one of her associates would find heart-wrenchingly familiar. "But rejoice! The bulk of her hidden knowledge actually found its way to me. Including, I might add, how to free you from your curse."

"How?" the Host demanded. All pretenses of disinterest and contempt were gone. "How did you find out?"

To this, the Guest chuckle throatily. "Oh dear, oh dear. My dear Prince, haven't you learned? Never inquire too deeply into the affairs of my kind." Her eyes took on a dangerous glow. "You will not like the results."

…

The Scarlet Devil Mansion – Patchouli's Study

5:16 PM

"And this," Patchouli panted as she set the armful of books down on her desk. "This is the last of them."

Mima's eyes glimmered as she surveyed the treasure spread before her. "My, my, my, my," she said, picking up one tome at random and rifling through its pages. "This is quite the impressive collection. It must have taken ages to bring together."

Though she was still breathing hard from carrying all those heavy books around, Patchouli still beamed at the compliment. "Y-yes," she said, settling gratefully down into her chair. "Roughly…roughly around ninety-seven years and counting."

"Some of these not even I am familiar with," Mima remarked. "From the Outside World, yes?"

Patchouli nodded. She poured herself a glass of water and drank it down. "Yes," she said when she was done. "Remilia was born there, after all. And she was always something of a collector of the rare and valuable. So when we brought the Scarlet Devil Mansion over, her own collection came with it." She smiled. "Many of them really are quite extraordinary. Magicians from beyond the Hakurei Barrier naturally do not have the wealth of spells and magical energy that we do, so I wasn't expecting much at first. But to my surprise, they really are quite clever. Magnus Margaret Dresden, for example, really must be the most accomplished mortal researcher into inter-dimensional travel that I've seen. I daresay that she understands it even better than Yukari Yakumo herself!"

"Remarkable," Mima mused. "Well, many times handicaps and lack only drive one to seek out more creative solutions to basic problems, and in the process, you learn far more about the fundamentals than those who have plenty and take it for granted."

Patchouli perked up. Magical history was a particularly beloved subject of hers. "Oh, you mean like Massinger the Unbowed?" she said, citing a revolutionary magician famed for her accomplishments in the field of transmogrification despite being paralyzed from the neck down. Massinger was a personal inspiration of Patchouli's, given her own weak health and the challenges it brought to her, so she had just named her by reflex. But then a surge of excitement struck her when she realized that Mima had probably known Massinger. And not only her, but numerous other magicians that Patchouli had read about, learned from, and looked up to. It was almost intoxicating to think about!

But to her surprise, Mima did not seem all that enthused by the mention of Massinger's name. "Well, I suppose so," she said reluctantly. "Though just between you and me, she had more help in her accomplishments that she really felt comfortable giving credit for, though I suppose successfully getting away with it is something of an accomplishment in itself. Though on that note, I usually use Orculus as an example."

Patchouli wasn't sure which revelation shook her the most: that Massinger the Unbowed might have actually been a fraud, or that Mima was happily citing someone already widely known as a fraud instead. To that end, she could only stammer out, "O-Orculus the Blind?"

"The same, though he was Orculus the Far-Sighted back in the day."

"B-but Orculus…" Patchouli tried to rein in her protests, she really did. Contradicting the great Madam Mima was not something anyone should be doing, least of all her. But in this regard she had to say something. "He…he was a fraud. A fake."

Fortunately, despite Patchouli's foolish babbling, Mima didn't seem at all offended. "Not entirely," she pointed out. "He did have some skill with illusion, and knew a trick or two on how to subtly influence the mind."

Patchouli now felt downright bewildered. Orculus was pariah in magical circles, an imposter to be scorned, not celebrated. And yet, here was Madam Mima, casually using him as an example of a creative mind. "Yes, but even so. As history records it, he never really accomplished anything, never made any discoveries or probed any mysteries. He just tricked a bunch of people into thinking he was a great sorcerer when he was just a middling conjuror. At best!"

To this, Mima only shrugged. "And isn't that an accomplishment in itself? Not everyone can be a great researcher. Sometimes, clever practical application of what you have is as admirable as a history-changing breakthrough. And he was able to use what he had to rule his territory uncontested for over three decades. There are legitimate talents that could not do half as much."

Patchouli wasn't sure how to react. As a career magician, her study of the magic arts had always been for its own sake, as was the case with many of her peers. About the only time she bothered with using it to find a new way to solve a problem was when Remilia asked her to. But now that she thought about, she supposed that there was something to be admired in having so little actual talent and being able to use to achieve such great ends would be the sort of thing that Mima would approve of. "Well, I suppose I see your point…" she admitted.

"Though I suppose I might be biased," Mima said. "I was very fond of Orculus, and found his scheme to be a royal hoot." She smiled wistfully. "He always did make me laugh."

Patchouli blinked. "You knew him?"

Mima nodded, and her smile gained a few centimeters. "Intimately," she purred.

It was all Patchouli could do to keep from shrieking. This conversation was turning the history books on their heads, and was changing them into tabloids! "What! I mean, I had no idea! Th-the histories have no records of…of you…"

"Doing anything at that time?" Mima finished for her. She shrugged. "Well, no, not as myself. He knew who I was, certainly, but-"

Then the pieces came together in Patchouli's head. Maybe she didn't get out as much as she should, but she knew her magical history. "His seer!" she blurted out. "Meeko, the blind girl that acted as his seer!"

Mima nodded in approval. "Smart girl. Yes, that was what I was calling myself at the time. Though before you get any ideas, his scheme was already well underway by the time I came around. I simply acted in an advisory role."

The books. The history books were being rewritten right in front of her. This was amazing. And bizarre. And ludicrous. But mostly amazing. "But…why?"

"Because of that nasty business with Naritas Hakurei," Mima responded. "I needed to lie low for a few decades, he needed someone with experience to give him a few pointers. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement."

Patchouli swallowed. "And…the two of you…"

"Of course!" Mima said cheerfully. "We were young…well, he was young, I was ageless…and attractive magic users, so why the hell not? Besides, I've always found the combination of ambition, creativity, and intelligence to be far more, ah, intriguing than simple magical potential."

Patchouli wasn't sure what was the more surprising: the scandalous things she was being told, or just how candid Mima was being about them. Why wasn't this in all the books? Had no one ever thought to try to interview Mima? She had been reformed and hanging out at Hakurei Shrine for years! "Oh," was all she could think to say.

Mima laughed. "Oh, don't look so flustered. I had a living body back then, and with it all the usual, ahem, urges. Of course, that whole business became obsolete upon my ascension into a spiritual being. Can't really say I miss it, given that losing it meant one less distraction, but it was fun."

Then something occurred to Patchouli, a rumor she had heard and had always wondered about. Clearing her throat, she ventured, "Um, I…hope I am not being too forward, b-but does that mean that the, er, rumors about you and Lord Shinji the Eloquent were-"

"Oh, those were completely true," Mima said without hesitation.

"Really?"

"Of course! Don't act so surprised." She sighed in a manner that was a bit too much like a pleasured moan. "In many ways, he was as charismatic as Orculus, which I always appreciated in a man. It wasn't anything particular serious though, mind you. An…allies with benefits sort of thing." Then she winked. "In fact, ol' Shinji was the last to, ah, flip through my sacred tome, so to speak."

"Wow," Patchouli said, awed. She had known that just talking to Mima would teach her so many things. She just hadn't counted learning about this. "What was he like?"

"Well, let me put it this way," Mima said with a girlish titter. She leaned forward, lips almost brushing Patchouli's ear, and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "When they said he had a silver tongue, they were not exaggerating."

Patchouli's face turned as red as a beet as some very interesting images flashed through her mind, ones that weren't supplied exclusively by her imagination. In her vault, secreted in one of the specialized crystal chests that she used to contain her greatest of treasures, she had a stash of magazines and manga editions that were of, ah, dubious moral quality. And though she would never admit it, some of them contained fictionalized accounts of the personal trysts of certain legendary magicians that she looked up to. One of her personal favorites not only revolved around the current subject matter, but vividly described the scene Mima had just glibly told her about. It was an odd thing, finding out that your pornography was accidentally historically accurate.

"Wow," Patchouli said again. "That's…very interesting."

Mima laughed again at her reaction. "Ah, poor Shinji," she said, a faraway look in her sapphire eyes. "Lovely boy, so well-spoken too. It really is a shame I had to tear out his heart and feed it to that night demon." She giggled. "Though given the nature of our relationship, I suppose it's only fitting that it ended with one of us penetrating the other."

And with that, Patchouli's fantasies suddenly lost a lot of their appeal. "Oh. Oh, th-that's right," she said, her face falling. "I had forgotten about that."

"Really? I haven't." Then, as if discussion of her former lover's murder at her own hands was of no importance, Mima dropped it and said, "Any rate, all couplings aside, I always felt that imagination and brainpower were of far greater value than raw power. Which is why I deliberately cut Marisa off from the majority of her magic when I first started training her."

Sucking in sharply through her teeth, Patchouli almost choked when she said, "You did what?"

"Well, it only made sense," Mima said, as casual as ever. "The girl was practically a walking, talking leyline, molded into the shape of a little girl. To allow someone so young and untrained to start off with that much power would be incredibly irresponsible. So I partitioned most of it off, at least to begin with."

If the details regarding Mima's sex life had rocked Patchouli's world, then this little tidbit of information just about destroyed it. Marisa Kirisame, that scrappy little rat that kept thieving her books, so incredibly powerful that Madam Mima herself had to seal away most of her magic just so she could manage her? It was almost unthinkable. "Had her start small?" she said weakly.

"In a manner of speaking," Mima said. "The tasks I gave were far beyond anything anyone with what I left her with could be reasonably expected to accomplish. I felt it was a fitting test for someone with as much raw talent as her."

"Oh." Patchouli looked down at her lap. She had accepted that talking to her personal idol would leave her feeling inadequate simply by comparison. She hadn't expected it to come from learning just how far above her Marisa had truly been. "And…did she?"

"Succeed?" Mima seemed honestly surprised by the question. "Of course! She was magnificent." There was no mistaking the pride in her voice. "Of course, some tests gave her more trouble than others. There were times when she was quite put out with me, thinking I was demanding too much from her. But she pulled through in the end. And every time I did, I unlocked little bit more of her magic and upped the ante. That way, by the time she had full use of her abilities, she would have the skill and experience to work the miracles she had been born to create."

"I see." Patchouli took a deep breath and tried to lift her lips in an interested smile. It would not due to let her despondence show. "So, seeing how she had, ah, left her mentorship, may I presume that her full potential had already been unlocked at the time of her, uh, demise?"

Mima sighed in regret. "Goodness, no. Not even remotely. No, she had simply progressed to a point where my constant guidance was no longer necessary and she would learn better on her own. I was still keeping an eye on her though. Better to judge when to release the next seal and all. But by my estimate, she was barely at a third of her full potential when Yuuka decided to sign her own death sentence."

It was a good thing that Patchouli was already sitting down. Even so, the way her head started swimming then threatened to send her slumping over the armrest. "A mere third…"

"Precisely." Mima's eyes narrowed, deadly malice flashing through her brilliant eyes. "Which is one of the many reasons why I'm taking this little matter so personally. It is no secret that I cared deeply for that girl. But when I think of the lost potential, all that she might have accomplished…well, that makes me rather put out on a professional level as well."

"I see," Patchouli said. Anything more, and it would have been painful to speak.

Mima nodded, her mouth set in a dagger-slash across her face. "You know, the ironic thing is that even as restricted as she was, Marisa still came within a hairsbreadth of killing Yuuka anyway. Can you imagine what might have happened had she been at her full strength with the experience to back it up? As intimidating as Yuuka might be, she wouldn't have stood a chance!" She sighed and used one immaculately manicured finger to flick away a single glistening tear. "Such a pity…Wait, what is this?"

Patchouli was so wrapped up in contemplations of her own mediocracy that she almost didn't notice Mima's sudden change of direction. But then she saw that the master magician was picking up a few stray papers from her desk and regarding them curiously, and her heart leapt up. And when she saw what they were, it almost stopped beating entirely.

"What? Oh, that old thing," she said, hastily reaching to take them away and hide them from her gaze. "That's just, uh, a bit of a side-project…"

Mima didn't let get of the papers. "I recognize this design," she noted. "It's modified, certainly, but this is my design. I remember abandoning it though. Damned thing just wasn't cost-effective."

It was the barrier generator Patchouli had been trying to construct for Remilia, the one that was supposed to constantly shift its own wavelength and thus render Rin Satsuki's unable to adapt to its energy and eat her way through. Unfortunately, given how many times it had blown up in her face and that Rin Satsuki's capture rendered it unnecessary, she had all but abandoned it as well. What point was there in building something that refused to work and cost an obscene amount of money to put together every time?

"Well, yes," Patchouli said, clearing her throat. "See, we figured th-that since Rin Satsuki had a grudge against, well, me, she might show up at the mansion seeking revenge."

"So you thought that this would protect you?"

Patchouli winced. "Er, well I thought that since her power is based around adapting to and absorbing specific magic wavelengths, the shield's constantly shifting composition would, ah, prevent that."

"Hmmm." Mima thoughtfully tapped a finger to her lower lip as she glanced over the schematics. "Well, it's not a bad idea, actually. Granted, the Phoenix Fire and Azrael's power would pose problems. Both pack quite the punch, but as a starting point, this…could work. Did you ever manage to get it to work?"

At that moment, Patchouli would have gladly traded away each and every one of her numerous accomplishments if she could only just proudly tell her idol that she had successfully made one of her abandoned designs work. Alas, such was not to be. "No," Patchouli was forced to admit. "It ran, yes, but it kept exploding."

"Yes, I had the same problem," Mima sighed as she placed the papers back onto the desk. She looked at them for a moment, and then announced, "You know, tell you what. It's been a long time since I worked on this design and have learned a thing or two since then. Why don't give we give it another shot?"

Patchouli jerked up straight, her eyes shining. "Really? I mean, there doesn't seem to be much point anymore. The attack's already happened, and-"

"Nonsense," Mima sniffed. "Rin Satsuki is still at large, and should Yukari fail to capture her in the wake of the Garden of the Sun's destruction, there will be nothing to prevent her from coming by for another go. Besides, just think of all the practical applications having such a barrier could provide."

"I…" A wide smile lit up Patchouli's normally grumpy features. "Well, how could I refuse the opportunity to accomplish a miracle with the great Madam Mima?"

"Oh, you flatterer," Mima preened, and Patchouli beamed.

Then suddenly Mima plucked a completely different paper up from the mess on Patchouli's desk. It wasn't based on magic, or anything of the sort. Rather, it was an essay written by an Outside World mathematician. "Now, as for the Yuuka issue, I think the answer lies within our friend Professor Moriarty here," Mima said.

Patchouli blinked in surprise. "M-Moriarty? But he wasn't a magician."

"This is true," Mima nodded. "But…Tell me something, Patchouli. You're a scholar. What is it that Professor Tolkien said regarding those who meddle in the affairs of magicians?"

Now this Patchouli knew. One of the many advantages of living in the largest known library was that you knew your literature. "That one shouldn't do it, because we are subtle and quick to anger," she answered without hesitation. And she smiled. She had always liked that quote.

Mima nodded, but then an unpleasant light appeared in her eyes, one that actually made Patchouli a bit uncomfortable. "Yes, and normally that would be true, but with all due respect to Tolkien, I must disagree on one specific point, and least in this specific instance."

Patchouli squirmed in her seat. She wondered how many of Madam Mima's enemies had seen that look in her eyes over the years, and found herself very glad that it wasn't directed at her. "What's that?" she said.

Mima tapped the essay's title. The Dynamics of an Asteroid. The essay itself concerned itself with the use of planetary bodies in orbital bombardment.

"Fuck subtle," Mima snarled. "Let's blow something up."

…

"Right then," the Guest said cheerfully. "So, restoration and ascension, all in one neat and tidy package." She chuckled. "No pun intended."

The Host was not nearly as enthused as she was. She saw hunched over the table, her head bowed, and her hands clasped as her face went to war with itself. "Indeed," she said, her voice raw with the conflict raging inside of her. "And it all it requires is that I be damned."

"You know the great thing about immortality?" the Guest gibed. "You really don't have to worry about that anymore."

The Host's eyes narrowed even further at that. "Of course," she said, raising her head ever so slightly. "Unless, of course, you still happen to have anything resembling a soul."

"I have nothing else. It has yet to pain me."

"So you say." The Host straightened up to look her smirking Guest in the eye. "You may act like these lives are nothing to you, but many of them were your apprentice's friends. She loved them. Do they mean nothing to you at all?"

…

Alice Margatroid's House

7:02 PM

Alice sat comfortably in her house's loveseat with Shanghai sitting on her lap and an open book on her knees. Though she really didn't have the slightest clue about how to be a parent, her own role model being rather lacking, everyone knew the importance of stories in a child's formative years. Introduce a sense of wonder and curiosity from the beginning, and the rest would fall into place, or so she hoped.

As such, evenings in the Margatroid house had become storytime. It helped that newborn youkai came into the world with a working knowledge of the world and how it worked, so she was able to skip over things like motor skills, the basics of language and mathematics, and what things were called. It also helped that Shanghai was naturally curious already, and stories fascinated her, to the point where they were the only thing that could hold her attention for more than a minute. And Alice had books in abundance.

"'Alice began to feel very uneasy: to be sure she had not as yet had any dispute with the Queen, but she knew that it might happen any minute,'" Alice read out loud. "'"and then," thought she, "what would become of me? They're dreadfully fond of beheading people here: the great wonder is that there's any one left alive!"'"

"Why would that be a bad thing?" Shanghai said suddenly. "Having their heads chopped off, I mean."

Alice paused, a sudden sinking feeling forming in her belly. Out of all the concepts introduced by the story's whimsy, and that was what she latched on. Still, there was little point in dodging the question. "Because it would kill them," she said simply. "And then they would be gone."

Shanghai frowned, her little brow wrinkling as she tried to wrap her young mind around such a heavy subject as death. Again, she had the basic idea of what it was and how it worked, but it mostly related to a youkai's experience with it. "But…but don't we come back?" she said.

"We do," Alice told her. "Youkai like us are immortal. As such, when we die, our souls remain in this world and our bodies fix themselves until the two can become united. However, mortals can't do that." Her fingers passed over the page, brushing over the illustration of the other Alice. "When they die, their bodies stay broken, and their souls go on to another world."

"Oh." The furrows on Shanghai's brow deepened. Alice wondered how much of this she was understanding. Maybe she should have put this conversation off until later. After all, the little doll was less than a week old. And it really wasn't a subject Alice much cared to visit herself. "Okay, but is that bad? Going to this other world? Is it nasty there?"

Sighing, Alice took a moment to ensure that her voice was going to be free of unnecessary emotion before saying, "In some cases. But even when it isn't, a mortal who has died cannot return to this world. Everything they wished to do will stay undone, and everyone they had known and loved here is lost to them. And until then, this is the only world that they have known, so leaving it for another is not easy. As such, while they have, for the most part, accepted that one day their lives will come to an end, having it taken from them early and without their consent is considered a great tragedy."

"Oh," Shanghai said again. "That's…sad."

True, but there were worst things to have taken from you, such as the possibility of Death itself. However, as bitter as Alice might still be about having her mortality stolen, this was not the time to delve into that nasty little corner of her life. "It is," she said honestly. "But it's a part of life for a mortal. People live, and they die. The fortunate ones keep living until their proper end, others have their life taken before their time. And those who knew them are sad that they're gone, but they…" A lump suddenly formed in Alice's throat. She swallowed it back and quickly finished the rest before her daughter notice. "…they move on, even if they still miss them."

Shanghai sat silently for a time, her head bowed as her days' old mind struggled to comprehend the intricacies of grief and loss. Then she asked, "Do you know someone that has died?"

Alice started. "What?"

"Do you know a mortal that died before their time, someone you miss?"

For a brief moment, old Alice almost was the one to answer, the Alice that kept to herself and snidely shunned the company of others. Fortunately, new Alice regained control before she snapped back with something hurtful. "I…yes," she said honestly. "A very dear friend of mine." She nodded over to her dresser, on which sat Marisa's hat. "That's her hat, over there."

"What happened to her?" Shanghai asked in innocent curiosity.

Alice took a deep breath. She was not about to shield Shanghai from uncomfortable topics, but it was too soon for her to go that deep into what happened. "I'll tell you when you're older," she said in a hoarse whisper.

Fortunately, Shanghai seemed to accept this. Unfortunately, she was still fixated with the subject at hand. "Do you miss her at lot?" she said, gazing at Marisa's hat.

It was several seconds before Alice said, "Yes. I do."

"Why do you have her hat?"

"Because she once said that she wanted me to have it, should something happen to her," Alice said. She swallowed, and then added, "She loved that hat very much, and wanted me to take care of it."

"Are you ever going to wear it?"

"Wear it?" Alice's head jerked back in shock. "Of course not!"

"Why not?"

Alice's mouth moved silently for a few moments before her brain remembered that it was supposed to be supplying words. "Well, because it wouldn't be appropriate! It was her hat!"

"But she gave it to you."

"Well, yes, but not to wear!" Then Alice frowned. Come to think of it, Marisa had often teased her about her lack of proper headwear, given how common hats, large bows, and other cranial ornaments were in Gensokyo. "Or at least I don't think…"

"Would she get mad if you wore it?"

Alice had to admit that all the times she had fantasized about bringing her dolls to life, she had never anticipated being so easily taken off guard by their innocently poignant questions. "I…I suppose she wouldn't," she stammered. In fact, Marisa was more likely to be upset that Alice was leaving her beloved hat to molder away on a shelf instead of allowing it to fulfill the purpose for its existence. But even so, just the thought of putting it on her head made Alice's skin crawl. It had been thoroughly cleaned, which meant that there weren't any bits of Marisa to be found within, but it had been with her at the moment of her death. In fact, if what she had learned was true, it may very well be the only piece of Marisa that had survived that final deadly encounter with Yuuka Kazami. That alone made the thought of actually wearing it rather ghastly, like she was putting her friend's skull on her head.

She tried to explain this to Shanghai. "But it just wouldn't feel…" Her voice trailed off. How could she possibly explain how she felt to her daughter when she didn't really understand it herself? Sighing, she gave up. "Um, why don't we get back to the book?"

Shanghai still looked puzzled, but thankfully didn't pursue the subject. Alice resumed reading, her voice a little harried at first, but soon she was able to settle back into the rhythm of the story.

Still, it was difficult not to steal glances at Marisa's empty hat. Before, it had just been a memento of her friendship with the young witch, something to remember her by and not much else. But now she couldn't shake the feeling that it was staring at her, though not in accusation. Rather, it seemed almost sad that it had been reduced to being nothing more than a keepsake, and was pleading with her to take it up as her own.

Alice's stomach twisted itself up into knots. She fought to keep her eyes on the page and not indulge in superstitious thoughts, though that perhaps would have been easier had she not been living in a world created specifically for superstition to thrive in.

…

If the Host meant to stir what remnants of her Guest's conscience still remained by mentioning her deceased apprentice's friends, she was to be disappointed, as her Guest merely shrugged without concern. "It doesn't matter if I do or don't, they will be well out of range when the fireworks start," she said.

The Host pursed her lips. "But these are the sort of fireworks that tend to…spread."

"Ah." The Guest let out a soft chuckle. "Well, in regards to that, I'm not the one holding the match. If it's the wanton destruction itself that worries you, I'd advise you take it up with the one responsible for it."

…

Yukari Yakumo's House

11:34 PM

"This request is…highly irregular."

Yukari stood facing her home's fireplace, golden eyes gazing into the flames. Her hands were clasped behind her back, and if she were feeling any lingering effects of her recent bender, she didn't show it. Save for the fire, there was only one other source of light in the room, leaving the room shrouded in long shadows and flickering silhouttes.

"It is," she agreed. "But then, this is an irregular situation." She turned to face her guest, if they could be called that. "Surely by now you see that."

The only other light in the room came from the large portrait hanging on the wall, which displayed each of Gensokyo's community leaders, known collectively as the Ringleaders. Most of the figures in the picture were flat and inert. However, in front of one depiction hovered a sparkling oval of light and color. Within it stood a meter-high representation of the figure in question.

He appeared as an old man, his white beard hanging to his knees and liver spots on his wrinkled forehead. However, his posture was straight and his head still had all its hair, which hung as long as his beard and tied into a many-knotted ponytail. He wore a long-sleeved robe embroidered with gold thread while flames hung around his head like a crown. Both the robe and his fiery crown constantly changed color, shifting from one end point on the spectrum to the next. His eyes glinted like opals, and smoke issued from his mouth and nostrils like a furnace.

The Dragon King nodded reluctantly at her words. "I do," he said. It sounded like an admission. "An Outer God and an Archangel's Avatar are not threats we can afford to ignore."

It took great power of will, but Yukari was able to resist saying, "I told you so." Instead, she simply nodded and said, "Then we are in agreement."

The Dragon King didn't answer immediately, nor did Yukari expect him to. He had never been one to rush to a decision, or anything else for that matter. Finally, after a few minutes of private contemplation, he asked, "How many mortal lives have been claimed by this calamity?"

Why would you care? Yukari thought bitterly. Keeping her face neutral, she said, "Five that we know of. Plus various other hurts and property damage."

"Only five?" The Dragon King seemed surprised. "I would have thought that the number would be much higher."

"So far circumstances have prevented a massacre," Yukari said evenly. "I would prefer to wrap thing up before it becomes one."

"Yes," he mused. "Plus, the word of our Lord is not something we lightly disregard."

Yukari idly wondered if the esteemed King of Dragons would sound so reverent were he to see his god wearing his usual form. If nothing else, the meeting itself would be amusing. "Then?"

A few more minutes of contemplation followed. Then the Dragon King said, "Five."

Yukari blinked. "Five? Five what?"

"Five warriors. That is what we will grant you."

A small smile tugged at Yukari's lips. Five warriors didn't sound like much, but given that they were Dragons, in most cases it would seem like overkill. In this occasion, it would suffice. "Thank you, your Magnificence. That will be more than enough."

"It had better be. I take it that they will not be fighting alone?"

"As it is, no. Their job will be destroying the Garden itself, as well as killing Yuuka should the opportunity present itself. I will also be infiltrating the mansion itself to secure Yuuka hostages and, if possible, eliminate her ourselves. I, and two others."

The Dragon King nodded. "Who did you have in mind?"

"Shinki and Sariel," Yukari told him. "They have been persuaded to lend their power in this endeavor."

The Dragon King was not often surprised, but this bit of news seemed to shake him. "Those two?" he said. "Two Archangels of Death, along with five Dragon warriors? Doesn't that strike you as a bit much?"

"Azrael's Avatar," Yukari said evenly. "Outer God. Do the math."

He did. The Dragons may be cultural bystanders, but they weren't stupid. "Point taken," he said. There was an uncharacteristic hint of uncertainty in his tone. "Though once this is over, perhaps it would be prudent to review our, ah, immigration policy, at least in regards to non-Japanese mythological beings."

"Yuuka was, until very recently, considered to be nothing more than an exceptionally powerful youkai," Yukari answered him. "And no one has the slightest clue how Azrael's sword wound up here in the first place."

"True, but even so-"

"Of course, once things have wrapped up, the Council of Conflict will be called together to discuss the repercussions of this crisis. You may voice any concerns you have about those from competing faiths and pantheons seeking shelter within the Hakurei Barrier then. After things have wrapped up."

"Of course," the Dragon King said grudgingly. He inclined his head. "Well. I will consult with the lords and seers and get back to you."

"I would appreciate it," Yukari said, inclining her own head, though not as deeply. "Thank you for your assistance in this matter."

Once his image had gone, Yukari plopped down into her chair and sighed with relief. She smiled. There was so little to smile about these days, but she was going to relish whatever bit of good news she could get.

Granted, having both the Dragons and the Angels go to war was going to have some terrible repercussions. No doubt the subsequent Ringleader meeting was going to be long and loud, and the fact that she was having to resort to such lengths to put an end to things was a disaster in itself. But Gensokyo had weathered similar catastrophes, and so had she. They would weather this one too. They had to.

Yukari looked into the fire, the hungry flames as they scorched what little life remained in the kindling. She imagined Yuuka writhing in those flames, screaming as her flesh blackened. The knowledge that her little fantasy was only a couple days from becoming reality warmed her inside.

That is what you get, she thought. Burn, monster. Burn, and burn well.

Then her eyes drifted up to the memento sitting on the mantle, where Minerva's broken crown sat as a constant reminder of the price of undeserved mercy and carelessness. So many of her people had died then because of her naiveté. It had been a brutal lesson to learn, but she had never forgotten it. And she would be damned before she allowed it to happen again.

She thought of the sight of Reimu's broken body, lying in that cave and only minutes from death. She thought of that dead look in the shrine maiden's eyes, the shock of having to destroy Marisa's body. All of it just to prove a point.

Well, Yukari knew how to prove points as well, and she was going to take great pleasure in shoving one right into Yuuka's guts.

Burn, monster. Burn for what you did to her.

…

"And what of those 'conscripts' of yours?" the Host demanded, the ire growing in her voice. "They will be at ground zero."

Sighing, the Guest shook her head. "Come now," she said with another small laugh. "It's me."

…

The Ancient City

12:27 PM

Groaning and muttering to herself, Vilt stumbled out of the Brawler Guid's headquarters. She walked stiffly, her bruises stilting her gait and a lovely black eye obscuring her vision. People made way for her as she staggered her way onto the street. Everyone knew better than to attract the attention of a member of the Brawler's Guild, especially one bearing signs of battle.

Vilt was a longtime member of the Guild, but she had been spending nearly double the time there as of late. She wasn't the only one either. Feelings of frustration and dissatisfaction were common in the Ancient City those days. Learning the truth about what had happened to Satori Komejii really hadn't dulled their anger in the slightest. Rather it had redirected it in a different direction, one more upward. Yuuka Kazami's name was muttered in every alley and loudly condemned in every publication. And with it were the names of others that shared responsibility in their eyes. Yukari Yakumo. The Lunarians. The Humans. The Hakurei Shrine Maiden. Anyone that they felt had either wronged them through misdeed or uncaring inaction was free game.

Unfortunately, unlike when they had assumed that Satori was to blame for their troubles, this time they couldn't do anything about it. As upset as they may, they couldn't very well violate their treaty with the Overworlders and go storming their front gates. And after Koishi Komejii had collapsed, word had reached them that an operation was already underway to rescue their leader and bring Yuuka Kazami to justice, and it really was in the best interests of everyone that this matter be left to the professionals.

Exactly nobody was at all happy with that.

Though the pounding she had taken had addled her thoughts and dulled her sight, Vilt's legs still knew the way, and soon she found herself limping through a narrow alley. The Coal Nugget was not far. A stiff drink was just what the doctor ordered, and she had gotten prescriptions from many doctors.

If there was one positive to come out of this mess, it was that in her absence, Satori Komejii now enjoyed a level of popularity and support unheard of her entire tenure as the Underworld's representative. In fact, she was achieving nearly saintlike status in some places. If there was anything that would drive the residents of Gensokyo's Underworld to rally behind a disliked leader, it was having her horribly victimized by an Outsider. The Underworld might often squabble, fight, and attack one another for any number of unimportant things, but when push came to shove they looked after their own. And when it came down to someone like Satori Komejii and Yuuka Kazami, there was no question who was what.

"Damn them," Vilt growled as she staggered along, her many chains clinking with every step. "Damn them, damn them, damn them!" She slammed a fist into a nearby wall. It held, as it had been designed with angry oni in mind, but it made the nearby rubbish bins jump. "Damn Yuuka Kazami, and damn those Overworlders. I wish I could throttle every last sunlovin' one of 'em."

"Well, you certainly have the right idea," said a nearby voice, one beautiful, melodic, and full of poison. "Might I offer some encouragement in that direction?"

Vilt started. Even with her dimmed vision she had been certain that there had been no one else in the alley with her. "Huh?" she said, turning around.

Then a slender hand closed around her emaciated neck. Vilt instinctively jerked back, but then she was pulled fully off the ground, held aloft by a grip stronger than any sort of metal she had known.

Vilt tried to break her attacker's hold, but she might as well have been trying to move the Earth itself. It was as powerful and unrelenting as an earthquake. She yanked on the fingers, pounded on the arm holding her up, but nothing she did so much as loosened it.

And all the while, those fingers continued to squeeze. Her breath was being forced from her lungs and her throat collapsing in on itself.

Vilt started to panic. She was a fighter by nature, but she already knew that this was something she couldn't fight. Still she kept struggling, kept pounding, kept kicking. She even tried to shoot off some danmaku. Spellcard battles weren't really her thing, but she was at the point where she needed to try everything. Unfortunately, it did nothing.

Then, just as her brain started to shut down, her vision miraculously cleared up, allowing her to see who was attacking her.

It was herself.

Vilt's own face grinned up at her, a perfect mirror-image in every way, down to her bruises and black eye. The only thing that was unrecognizable was the bloodthirsty grin, the twisted sadism in her one good eye. Vilt was a lot of things, many of them questionable, but she was no sadist, and she certainly was not evil. This creature was.

The two Vilts stared at one another, one smiling with glee and the other agape with pain and horror. Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

And then the lightning came.

It lashed out at the oni like striking snakes, surging through her metal chains and lancing over her flesh. Skin flaked away as it cut into the muscle beneath.

Metal melted. Meat cooked. Bones blackened.

I'm dying, Vilt realized. Whatever it was that was surging through her was killing her. And not in the mundane, temporary way every youkai must endure sooner or later. This power was cleaving into her very soul and ripping it apart.

Her vision was already gone, thanks to the destruction of both her eyes. She also could feel no more pain. However, as impossible as it sounded, she was still able to hear herself murmur, "Don't worry. Your final wish will be honored. Pain and suffering will be wrought upon all of the Overworld, and it all will start with you. Unfortunately, your Underworld friends will be caught in the flames as well. Too bad."

Vilt tried to scream, but her throat had been turned to ash. Soon after, the rest of her followed.

…

"Many people have their uses,' said the Guest.

…

The Ancient City

3:20 PM

By the time Vilt had left the Coal Nugget, the beginnings of a new riot were already underway. Old bandages were being torn off long-forgotten wounds as everyone suddenly remembered everything that they hated about the Overworld and its rotten inhabitants. All of their lists were long.

Vilt couldn't help but smile to herself. The match had been cast, and soon the fire would rise up to consume the entire city. From there, it would burn on, following a very precise course, and eventually engulf one Yuuka Kazami.

Yes, it really was a productive day.

Then she turned her attention upward, past the rooftops of the Ancient City, and over to the darkness that lay beyond the city limits. Not far from there was the glowing cavern that contained the Palace of Earth Spirits. Yes, that would be her next stop.

No one was in the alley with her. Vilt stopped and stood in place. And then she changed.

Flesh flowed over her bony body, filling it out. Her chains seemed to melt, becoming cloth and forming a full robe, done in white and purple. Her scraggly hair lengthened and glowed like gold. A mop cap came into existence and settled lightly on her head.

Vilt the oni was gone. Now Yukari Yakumo, Mistress of Borders, remained.

Yukari smirked to herself. Then she glanced down. There, brushed out of the way against the wall, was a small pile of grey ashes and twisted bits of metal.

"So long," she said, and then vanished from view.

…

"Many people are worthy enough to be considered allies," the Guest all but whispered. "But in the end…"

…

The Scarlet Devil Mansion – Library

4:52 PM

Having finished speaking to Remilia Scarlet's murderous maid, Yukari Yakumo wasted no time stepping through a gap and closing it behind her, taking her from the Scarlet Devil Mansion.

Or at least, that was how it appeared to Sakuya.

In reality, Yukari went no further than the mansion's library. She appeared between the towering stacks of books, surrounded on all sides by recorded knowledge. She looked up at the endless volumes and smiled. The thoughts thousands, if not millions of individuals were all around her: their dreams, their observations, their beliefs, and their discoveries. An inquiring soul thirsty for enlightenment could spend a single afternoon there and find themselves drowning in the bounty that the library provided. Even Yukari herself was impressed, and she had seen many similar vaults in her time.

But it was not the knowledge of the books she was interested in today. Now that she had concluded her business with the maid, her concern was with a different sort of Knowledge entirely.

Yukari sighed and muttered a short word under her breath. And then she started to change.

The braids in her hair melted away as gold gave way to green. Her face shifted, becoming even sharper, her cheeks thinning out and her nose shrinking. Beneath her skirt, her legs seemed to evaporate into one another, becoming a single smoky tail. Her mop cap elongated up into a sharp point as her outfit shift from white and purple to blue and gold. And when she opened her eyes again, they were no longer honey gold, but a glittering sapphire blue.

Now restored to her natural form, Mima put her hands on her hips and smiled in satisfaction. Yes, things were coming together nicely.

She then made her way through the stacks, moving toward the back of the library until she came to the door that led to Patchouli Knowledge's study. Passing through, she found the studious magician sitting at her desk, head bowed as she pored over an aging tome that was easily larger than most children.

Approaching from behind, Mima cleared her throat and said, "Good afternoon."

Patchouli let out a small squeak of surprise, her upper body jerking back so quickly that her reading glasses nearly flew off her face. "M-M-Madam Mima!" she gasped as she tried to compose herself. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you coming!"

"Not at all. No one ever does." Craning her neck, glanced over the giant pages Patchouli had been reading. "Ah! Victory Through Mystical Mastery: A History of Magical Warfare. A real classic! And a first-edition, no less!"

Blushing, Patchouli nodded. "Y-yes, well, since this, ah, project is of a, uh, is aggressive in nature, I thought it best to, uh, read up. On other cases."

"I see," Mima said with a nod of approval. "Well, you certainly picked the best place to start. This particular beauty is refreshingly thorough in its recording, to say nothing of its objectivity. Too often our kind muddle events with personal commentary, lengthy observations, and a skew toward bias, leading to some rather one-sided reporting."

"Oh, don't I know it," Patchouli sighed "Sometimes I feel that I must sift through endless pages of rambling just to retrieve a single kernel of truth."

"It's a trial, but we endure," Mima sighed. "Though speaking of books…"

Patchouli leapt up with a swiftness that would have surprised those who lived with her. "Oh, yes! I have them ready! I'll go get them at once!"

As her enthusiastic fan rushed off to retrieve the volumes Mima had suggest, the spirit watched her with an unmistakable satisfaction. It was the look a hunter might give to a downed buck, the look a prosecutor might give a loose-tongued witness. Her lips curled up, and she let out a low sigh, hissing snakelike through her nostrils.

…

"Most really are just cannon fodder," Mima said. Her smile remained where it was, but it had shrunk to something more grim. "You know this. You've made use of them yourself."

Her host took a deep breath. "Not to the lengths you are planning to do," she said. "Not like this."

Mima made a small noise through her nostrils. It wasn't quite a laugh, but it conveyed her disdain well enough. "Then I should remind you that this will happen regardless of your involvement," she said as she picked up her full and cooling cup of tea and lightly swirled it around like a martini. "The boulder has already been sent rolling down the hill, and nothing you do will stop it. The only thing you have to decide is whether or not you will benefit from what is to come or get caught in the flames." The cup lengthened and became transparent glass. The lukewarm green tea inside darkened, became first a muddy brown before clearing to a chilly red. Cold steam rose from the top. "Because I can assure you this: only I know how to reverse Madam Sadira's curse. Only I can restore you to your former self. And once I leave Gensokyo, that window of opportunity will be gone forever." Smacking her lips, she stared right into the trouble eyes of her royal host. "So, what's it going to be, Miko? Is what little conscience you have left enough to keep you from saving yourself, simply on principle?"

To her credit, her host did not immediately say 'yes.' After all, she was a woman of strong principles, to say nothing of her stubborn pride. However, she didn't say "no" either. After all, everyone had a price. Everyone had something they desperately desired. And no one understood that better than Toyosatomimi no Miko.

Miko was silent for a long time, no doubt wrestling with the rift between her conscience and her desires. When she spoke again, her voice was rough. "You know, when I awoke and saw what you had become, I almost let myself believe that you really had changed."

"So did many other people," Mima said dismissively. "I don't know why. I always made my lack of repentance completely clear."

Miko slowly shook her head. "So you're saying that the lives you are about to ruin mean absolutely nothing to you?"

Mima's cold smile lost all semblance of humor. It still remained, but somehow it conveyed more actual grief, rage, and venomous hatred than the more appropriate expressions would have. She held up her wineglass and stared at Miko through the crystal and the scarlet liquid within. "That's the thing about giving your heart to someone," said Madam Mima, Evil Spirit of Makai, Grand Sorceress of the Order of the Poison Sky, High Warlord of the Serpentine Marauders, and Mistress of the Fortress of Silence. Mima, the single greatest murderess Gensokyo had ever seen. Mima, the self-declared deadliest person active in Gensokyo. Mima the vengeful. Mima the merciless. And now, Mima the unretired, the unreformed, and the unrepentant.

"You don't get it back when they're gone," Mima said sadly. She raised her glass in a toast and knocked it back with one go.

…

Welp. This is happening now.

Though hey, fun fact. You know how I usually like to do a loose ends chapter right before something big goes down? This was supposed to be that, and lead directly into the finale. But while it still serves the same purpose, when I was writing it anything involving Rin and Team Nineball kept getting bigger and bigger, to the point where they had three big cutaways that sort of took attention away from everything else. So I chopped it off, made it its own chapter, and sort of wrote that one and this one at the same time. So there's one more to go before things go down. Fortunately, that one is practically done, but I still have to do some difficult rewriting and editing first. So yeah, that's the sitch.

In other news though, with this update, Imperfect Metamorphosis is now the first Touhou fic to hit a million words. Wooho, milestone!

Until next time, everyone!