Spring-Summer, Season 124/2009, recounted Summer, Season 125/2010

Dearest Akyuu
Allow me to open with all reverence to you,

Though the first of summer has been announced, the tempest-spirit of spring still holds terrible sway. The mornings are nipped with hoarfrost; the afternoons worried by the scud of rain clouds before swift winds. Days are soon over: evenings cower before the battering, flattening downpour of thunderous storms. These evenings bring the thought of you, Akyuu, and your unfortunate illness. I hope that the Chikujo-untan-to has aided your constitution, although I certainly cannot hope to match the efficacy of my father's Kampo preparations.

Your Yougaku records have afforded me my sole warmth during these rain-soaked days. I admit, the music did not hold me at first; there was something unsettled within them, and it urged me to fret about in that rain-dark house. However, the pieces had a lilting quality, almost in spite of themselves. As I listened, intrigued, I felt myself being stirred into false nostalgia. They are someone else's memories, are they not? It's very much like you to bottle these things, remember them for others. And you know how much I treasure memories and guard them. I thank you for your considerate and private gift.

I hope to pass on a more abstract, more trifling gift. In your previous letters, you have stated your ambition of becoming a teacher of history at the temple school. I admire you for choosing such a selfless ambition: most of us teachers, myself included, have simply fallen into the role, whether by circumstance or legacy. Doubtless my old tutor, Ms. Kamishirasawa, has told you about her particular pull of obligation, the importance of passing down history in Gensokyo. I am sure that you have thoroughly digested her spiel on the virtues of good instruction, public duty, the full use of your talents, etcetera, so I shall not repeat them here. On the subject of ideals, Ms. Kamishirasawa is witheringly complete.

Instead, over the course of several letters, I shall humbly attempt to instruct you on the subject of practicalities, using my own inheritance. Some months before he passed, my father abruptly said to me, "You will take over the Miyake Kampo Practice." With that one sentence, he had bestowed upon me a terrific inheritance, and he soon set about ensuring that I deserved it. I had trained to become a Kampo practitioner, of course, but nothing could have prepared me for the rigors of teaching. Fortunately, my father distilled his methods into a set of three simple maxims: Dignity, Partition, and Discipline. He enclosed them within his journal, which instructed me to pore over. I venture that, in time, you will appreciate the genius inherent in the maxims: my time teaching has spanned half a decade now and the sheer practicality of the maxims still impresses.

I hope that you may consider granting me two small wishes in return. First, I dearly request that we shed all decorum in these correspondences. It is my sincere hope that, after our fruitful year of letters, you no longer view me as merely being your teacher. In my own private regard, you have long transcended your role: the depth of your understanding and your delicious sensitivity, in matters academic and otherwise, have elevated you far beyond the station of a student. I hope that you will henceforth consider me a confidant, a candid friend, as I have come to consider you. Please, weigh my request carefully.

My final wish is improper, and I hope you will attend to it (if you so desire to grant it) only after you are fully recovered. I have a curious account which I wish to relate to you. The account concerns the three maxims and a particular youkai, Reisen Udongein Inaba, her of the Hourai Pharmacy. It is a study in failure, both hers and mine. I have carried the account in secret for some months, and I fear that the lack of telling has rendered the experience rancid and rotting. It is like a knot of thoughts that I cannot undo; my nights are spent teasing and pulling at it to no avail. I am confident that an authority on youkai such as yourself may be able to aid me.

It will be some time before this sodden spring departs and makes way for the summer. Therefore, I pray for your speedy and favorable recovery.

Let me close with great respect to you,
Chiyoko Miyake

A/N: Glossary of terms

Kampo: Traditional Japanese medicine which uses a combination of herbs, acupuncture, burning of mugwort to cure diseases. It uses a number of unique methods of diagnosis, which will be explained briefly in the fic.

Yougaku: PC-98 music. Akyuu canonically loves it.

Chikujo-untan-to: A Kampo preparation meant to aid against persistent colds, fevers, and pneumonia. Akyuu's just recovering from a bout of the last one.