Chapter 2: Maiden's Requiem
There are a great many borders established throughout the world as time and civilization pass inexorably onwards. Some are arbitrary, written into law at the demand of a tumultuous landscape of law and order. Others spring to life naturally, at the whims of the world beyond the grip of humankind. In truth, all a border is made of is the perception of separation; the belief in the divide across the singular and the subsequent separation into multiple. Borders do not exist in nature, for the border itself is a concept, and concepts exist only within the mind. Thus, the first border developed alongside the first mind, when the world was young and fresh and full of possibility.
There are few now who remember those unknowably distant days, and even for them, it has long since faded to a mere blur. Yet, much as a god develops from faith in an object, so too can faith in an idea create such a deity, and the faith in the border is absolute. It exists as a foundational building block at the base of nearly all minds complex enough to comprehend the idea. Such infinite faith does not simply disappear into a vacuum, and as such, it coalesces into something truly unique. One that is neither here, nor there, but is the line in between. Yes, to call Yukari Yakumo a mere god would be to understate what she really is; a living concept. An idea with flesh. A walking microcosm of the grand collective unconscious in which all minds float listlessly together.
So, what grand task occupied this utterly unique creature as the peaceful moon set for the last time in what to many would feel like an eternity? Why, sleeping, of course! To one who has lived before the first petals of the cherry blossom tree drifted to the ground, existence becomes a tedium, a droning cry to which the only comfortable response is to sleep. Yukari slept and slept, dozing away the hours in the space between spaces, until she was awoken by a niggling thorn worming its way into her mind.
Much as a human is aware of their own limbs, so too is Yukari aware of her own component parts. To the Youkai of Borders, each border is like a nerve, and each time a border is crossed it is as though a phantasmal finger has poked said nerve. She lay upon the borders of the mind as a spider upon its web, a web far grander than any could hope to believe. One would imagine this nigh-infinite cosmic tickling would blend together into an indecipherable white noise, and indeed this was true for the first ten thousand years or so, but millennia of meditation taught Yukari to differentiate the notes of this cacophony. Even in her sleeping state, she was perfectly aware as two borders were crossed, borders of great importance. Deep within the forest, the border separating life and death was crossed by an ordinary magician. This alone would have been an issue of some concern, and yet, it was the second border that really stirred her from her rest. This was a border that had been left uncrossed for many years, one often toed but never truly touched. It was this greatest of all borders that first sprung into being countless centuries prior. This was the border that started everything, and it was one which, when crossed, signalled bloodshed and devastation unimaginable.
Yukari jolted awake as the border between Order and Chaos was crossed. A border like that leaves a scar when crossed, a festering wound that spreads its infection to the world. From the heart of the one foolish enough to cross that sacred boundary, a plague of chaos would blossom forth, and order, stability, life, all would crumble.
This, now this… This was interesting. Ah, what a wonderful show she was in for, and yet…
"I must do something," Yukari muttered to herself, begrudgingly. "More will die. She will not be the last."
Of course, Yukari could easily have snapped her fingers and wrapped up the incident with a neat little bow, right then and there. The rogue goddess could be dealt with instantly, and if the magician had yet to be judged, she too could be revived. Yet, such interference was simply tedious to her. There was a time when Yukari solved every issue herself, and she had never felt such boredom. There was no tension, no drama. No, hers was not the role of hero, she was merely a guide. It would be left to another to clean this mess.
"Reimu..." Yukari said to herself, thinking deeply. Dear Reimu, always so reliable, yet what of now? Could the loss of so close a friend break her as no foe ever could? Should she tell Reimu everything? Should she even choose Reimu at all? Ah, such deep thought was not to be attempted by a tired mind. Whatever was the right decision, it could wait for now.
"Ran," she called, nestling her head deeper into her pillow.
"Yes, Lady Yukari?" asked the Shikigami, hurrying to her mistress's side.
Yukari gave a deep yawn. "Keep an eye out for cheaters. Stop them from playing until I wake up."
Ran gave a puzzled expression and replied, "Yes, Lady Yukari, but, cheaters? What do you mean by cheaters?"
Her only response was a muffled snore. Ah, she loved her master, truly, but need she be so cryptic? Ran Yakumo gave a slight sigh as she began what was to be a lengthy, aimless search of Gensokyo. Her nine tails flicked slightly in discontent as she crossed from nowhere into somewhere else.
Yukari Yakumo
Youkai of the Space between Spaces
As the final bloodless moon sank below the horizon, its last pale rays illuminated the delicate woodwork of the Hakurei Shrine once more. White turned to orange, then yellow, as the brilliant glow of the rising sun replaced the last meagre scraps of moonlight. Birds chirped overhead, a gentle wind blew through the trees. All was quiet and calm in the Shrine between Gensokyo and the world beyond it. One could get lost in the gentleness of nature, forgetting the passage of time until the rocks are worn to sand. Yet, this calm did little to soothe the troubled Shrine Maiden perched upon the Shrine's stairway.
Marisa Kirisame was late. This was not at all unusual, and it would have elicited little more than mild irritation from Reimu Hakurei if not for the echoes of her nightmare, still lingering within the forefront of her mind. It had felt so real, so agonisingly, hauntingly real. A shadowed figure, towering over her. A flash of bright light. She had felt herself think, in Marisa's voice, and the words had burned themselves into her soul like a brand.
"Hey, sorry Reimu. Guess I'm dead, huh? See ya 'round."
It all felt so crisp, so clear, far from the hazy stream of thought familiar to the dreaming mind. Marisa had seemed so excited to announce her "special secret", and yet as Reimu looked up at the bright mid-morning sun, she realised that it had been almost two hours since their allotted meeting time.
"Humph," Reimu scoffed. "She has no respect for my time!"
Rising to her feet, Reimu brushed the dust from her dress and stalked back into the Shrine, slamming the door behind her. The peaceful silence was broken further by scuffling sounds from within the shrine, followed at last by the door slamming open once more. Reimu Hakurei emerged, gohei in hand, flanked on both sides by two large, red-white orbs. She took off into the air, muttering bitterly to herself.
"If she's not going to meet me, I'll just go to her instead. That's what I'll do. I'll kick her awake, serve her right."
The only signs that all was not right with the Shrine Maiden was a slight whitening on her knuckles as she clutched her gohei a little tighter than was perhaps necessary. To any observer, and indeed even to herself, she was the usual unconcerned Reimu, floating along peacefully. What Reimu was not aware of, however, was how very many observers there were to see her. As the sunlight shining over her became more and more choked by the forest canopy, more and more eyes became fixated upon her. By the time she reached the Kirisame Magic Shop, hundreds of eyes followed her every move from the greenery.
Alice Margatroid
Prismatic Puppeteer
The door was unlocked. That was the first clue that all was not right, yet, not a telling one. After all, Marisa hardly kept her homestead in precise order. Perhaps she had merely forgotten? Reimu entered the messy cottage, gingerly stepping over loose books, discarded clothing, and various miscellaneous detritus. Marisa's home was always such a mess. Her belongings were always kept scattered, discordant. Here, a stolen grimoire. There, a doll, and another doll, and…
Reimu barely had time to react as a circle of dolls sprung to life around her, rainbow energy shrouding them in a prismatic glow. In haste, she threw up a barrier around herself, blocking the assault as a mass of the small wooden figures leapt upon her. There was a flash of light, the sound of tearing paper, and seventeen broken dolls rolled on the floor. Reimu drew another handful of talismans, and loudly called, "Alice!"
A door slammed open, and Alice Margatroid stormed in, flanked by more dolls, ethereal strings trickling from her fingers. Her eyes were wet with tears, her dress was frayed, and on her head was a tattered, scorched black hat. Reimu saw the hat first, before any of the other details.
She got the wrong idea. She got completely the wrong idea. No sooner had she laid eyes upon the youkai than a swarm of rainbow-coloured orbs burst forth from her, obliterating the massed dolls and knocking Alice clean through the wall behind her. She slammed against a nearby tree, sizzling slightly, the hat flying off her head and alighting upon the ground. Reimu advanced, all the calm that frequented her face replaced with fury.
"It wasn't a dream then," she spat. "What did you do to Marisa?"
Alice staggered to her feet, coughing. "Reimu..."
"Where is she?"
Alice lowered her hands, tears welling in her eyes again. "Reimu… She's…"
Slinking down against the tree, Alice placed her head in her hands. "Last night, she went into the forest. When she didn't come back I thought maybe she had gotten lost. I thought I'd show her the way home. I found her in a clearing. It wasn't pretty, Reimu. Her body was charred almost black. She was surrounded by burnt pages and scorchmarks. She wasn't breathing..."
Alice trailed off, leaving Reimu standing in silence, broken only by the ambient noise of the forest. She was reeling, what could Alice have meant? Could Marisa really be… No. This had to be one of the youkai's tricks. There was no way Marisa could have actually…
"You're lying," said Reimu, breaking the silence. "Yes, you're lying, and I'll beat the truth out of you."
"Reimu..." began Alice, but her sentence was cut short as a hail of paper talismans flew towards her, digging into the tree with a splintering crunch. Alice flicked her fingers, and an army of dolls began to crawl out of the cottage behind Reimu, bolts of rainbow magic blasting from them like glowing needles.
The eyes in the undergrowth continued their incessant watching, quietly, patiently, as Reimu Hakurei and Alice Margatroid fought. Yes, they watched, and they saw, as Reimu fought like she never had. So much of the grace was gone from her movements, the delicate, elegant dance with which she dodged all obstacles, and yet, there was something new. A certain ferocity marked her movements, a vicious bloodthirst that was entirely out of character for the Shrine Maiden. The eyes had barely time to blink twice before the battle was over.
Alice fell to the ground amidst a pile of broken dolls. She felt the savagery in Reimu's attacks. She knew what the Shrine Maiden herself did not; deep down, she did believe Alice. She believed her, and she hated her for it. In truth, Alice had no will to fight. For her, denial had passed, and now grief lay heavy upon her heart. Looking up at Reimu, towering over her, the sharpened blade of the Hakurei gods, she felt herself begin to laugh. She laughed and laughed, even as the tears blurred her vision.
"You know," she choked out between fits of laughter, "All I can think about is that now I'll never get to beat her. Isn't that absurd? I'll never see her again and all I can focus on is that."
Alice lay in the mud, laughing beyond control. Smoke billowed from her, blood and tears slickened her body, and as she laughed she found herself struggling for breath. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
A lilting, sing-song voice sang out from the greenery, as if announcing the end of the battle. "Well, that was dramatic," it tittered. "Who would have thought that the black-white's death would cause such a spectacle!"
Reimu spun around towards the origin of this new voice, locking eyes with a large fairy. She wore a green dress patterned with small acorns, and her wings were unusually broad. Her face was affixed with a mirthful grin which did not entirely reach her eyes, and in her hands was a letter adorned with a familiar, bat-shaped seal.
"A letter for you, red-white."
Reimu snatched the letter from the fairy's hands, hastily tearing off the envelope and reading the contents. It was written in the unmistakable handwriting of Remilia Scarlet. A fierce scowl deepened across Reimu's face as she read.
"Dear Reimu Hakurei.
It has long been on my mind that I am perhaps not taken as seriously as I should be by the residents of Gensokyo. This, I believe, is your fault. These trivial rules of yours are to blame. It has pained me greatly to see rules written by the weak, for the weak, time and time again allow the weak such as yourself to thwart me.
No longer. I have given your Spell Card rules a fair trial, and have found them to be merely a childish attempt to rise to my level by restricting my actions. I will not suffer the embarrassment of losing to a mere human ever again. Your rules mean nothing to one such as I.
Let none now question that I am in a league altogether above your kind. Let all learn the price of underestimating me! As you may have discovered, the pesky thief Marisa Kirisame has already discovered this price. Thievery of my property can only be adequately punished with death!
Please return the stolen property of miss Kirisame to me at your soonest convenience, and I may forgive you for past humiliation.
Signed, Remilia Scarlet."
Sprig Oakleaf
Zealous Fairy of the Deep Woods
The fairy, Sprig, tittered as the expression on Reimu's face grew darker and darker. "Goodness, you sure look angry about something! Are you alright?"
Reimu looked her in the eyes, furious.
"That damned youkai… How could she..."
Sprig scratched her head in contemplation. "I dunno, isn't this kinda your fault? I mean, y'know, exterminating youkai is kinda your job, right? So, if you'd done your job right, hey, wouldn't black-white still be alive?"
There was silence following those words, silence so thick and so oppressive that it could be felt pressing upon the skin. All the eyes present could see the expression on Reimu's face mirror her thoughts. First rage, then confusion, sadness, and finally a deadly calm. She took one step forwards, then another, the gentle crunching of leaves beneath her feet the only sound echoing through the clearing.
"You're right," breathed Reimu. "Yes, you are. I have been slack in my job. I have allowed far too many youkai to live." She gave a small, mirthless giggle. "I thought perhaps force could keep them in line. I thought if I only responded to aggression… I thought force could buy peace. I should have known better."
She continued to advance, her face betraying no shred of emotion. "While humans and youkai both live, there can be no peace. Truly, it comes down to one or the other. I guess I always knew that, I was just too lazy to commit. Now my closest friend is dead due to my inaction."
Reimu flicked her gohai, the flowing ribbons swishing through the air. "I am a youkai exterminator. My job is to exterminate youkai. I don't need to think about anything else."
She came to a stop right before Sprig, close enough that the fairy could feel her warm breath against her skin. "Would you look at that," she breathed, barely more than a whisper. "I see a youkai in front of me."
Sprig gave a flap of her wings, darting backwards, a flash of fear crossing her face. "You… You don't scare me! My lady is invincible! She'll make everything better!"
Reimu raised an eyebrow, her face still expressionless and cold. "Indeed? Your spirit can tell your lady that I'm coming for her next."
Reimu felt a sudden urge to step backwards, which she acted upon. As she felt herself trip on a loose stone, she heard a deafening crack, and she found herself slipping through the only gap in an otherwise impossible wall of massed acorns, flying through the air like oaken bullets. No spell card. Her opponent had cheated. It was all true.
Reimu thought to herself for a moment, and came to a swift conclusion. If the youkai were planning on cheating, eradicating humanity unfairly, the only way to stop them was to cheat herself. It was time for her to go all out.
What happened next was fast, such that the massed eyes could barely make it out. A blur of red and white formed a circle around Sprig, and when Reimu Hakurei came to a standstill, four paper talismans floated in the air, forming a perfect circle around the startled fairy. Reaching out delicately, elegantly, to the nearest talisman, a thrum of power sparked across Reimu's fingers.
A barrier appeared, between the four talismans. This was a trick Reimu had used before, but mainly for defence. The nigh-unbreakable wall of energy burst instantaneously into being between the four paper scraps. A sickening snipping noise followed, like scissors severing the link between two sausages. Reimu Hakurei turned and floated away, as the two halves of Sprig Oakleaf fell to the ground with a wet thud.
Her face was dispassionate, her body calm, yet her eyes ran slick with tears. In her mind she knocked one bead off a tally. Not a list of names, of faces, simply numbers. Yes, this was no time to be emotional.
Reimu Hakurei had a job to do. Gingerly, she lifted the tattered hat from its resting place on the ground, and secured it atop her head.
One by one, the eyes around her winked out. Blood stained the Forest of Magic, a vibrant tapestry of red and green.
Sanae Kochiya
Miraculous Maiden of the Mountain
I must admit, uploading to this site is a little frustrating. Still, I am now confident and comfortable enough with my story to share it, and well... That is what stories are for. Stories are made to be read.
A story left unread is a tragedy of isolation. Who knows what a story left abandoned in the wilderness might do? What it might become?
Who it might destroy?
Just a thought.