Chapter 10: Hakurei
Reimu blinked, her mind hazy and confused, scrambling to make sense of the world around her. She scoured her memories to determine what might have lead to such an awakening, but it was as though her mind was soaked in honey, sticking to the corners of her skull and merely brushing at the truth with slimy fingers.
She looked around at where she was, but did not recognise a single sight. The world she found herself waking up to did not seem to entirely conform to Euclidean geometry. Her back was tickled by damp grass, and before her sat an ancient-looking shrine, one that looked as though it aught to have crumbled to dust a million years prior or before. She lay beneath the faded shrine gate, flecks of faded red paint scattered in the grass around her, and as she ran a trembling, tired hand across the wooden beams she felt the wood splinter at the merest touch. It may perhaps have seemed normal, yet not so, how could it? From around the skies she saw innumerable eyes and from below the ground she felt innumerable more, warping and shifting in impossible ways, fixated solely upon her. Between them, she saw the fabric of time and space itself, raw, unfiltered, unbound by the limitations of linear space. The sight alone made her violently ill, and had there been even one shred of content in her stomach she would have lost it.
She licked her lips, realising they were cold, and in a rush of thermal comprehension she felt that the rest of her body too was icy and stiff. It took a moment to find her voice, croaking out the words echoing across the forefront of her thoughts.
"Where… Where am I?" she groaned.
She thought for a moment, as a more pressing question forced its way to light.
"Who am I?"
A figure towered over her, familiar, yet utterly foreign. She wore a large, frilly dress, swaying to and fro in an unseen breeze, though the air around them lay unnaturally still. Her golden hair, dressed up in ribbons and dancing in the cosmic wind, tickled Reimu's face as the stranger leaned in closer. Reimu met her eyes, eyes which matched the multitude staring down upon her from all around. She felt a shiver run down her spine.
The mysterious figure of Yukari Yakumo took Reimu's head in her hands, the warmth of her palms pleasant against Reimu's frigid skin. She smiled, a patient, yet very tired smile.
"Memory will return with time as the warmth of life flows back through you, dear Reimu. Crossing so complete a border twice in so short a space is taxing on the soul, all the more for one so young as you."
Reimu nodded, thinking. "So complete a border? Yes, that's right. I died, didn't I?"
Yukari bobbed her head in agreement, her hands returning to her sides. "Perhaps you did, perhaps not. Death is so strange a concept. Your soul departed from your body, this much is true, so by all standard definitions, yes. You died. Though, such a small event as the death of one such as you is a trivial division for me to cross."
Reimu pouted, her cheeks growing red with displeasure. "I am small, am I? Should I exterminate you too?"
Yukari laughed, suppressing her mirth with a gently clenched fist pressed against her lips. "Oh, how many have tried? I'll warrant those words stand among the last for more souls that any other… Perhaps excluding 'Hold my beer' and other such indicators of imminent foolishness."
Reimu made an effort to rise to a sitting position, but found the strength in her muscles insufficient for the task. She sighed.
Yukari took a seat in the air before her, a hand reaching through a fold in space and retrieving an ornate teapot, two cups, and a platter of cheeses. She tittered, pouring the tea into the cups with an air of mirth.
"I don't suppose the president of France will begrudge us his afternoon tea. The French really do make the best cheeses, I can see why they are all so proud of them."
She placed the steaming teacup onto Reimu's chest, then cut herself a wedge of camembert. Reimu frowned, her fingertips twitching, but otherwise making no motion.
"Yukari, you blasted hag, I can't reach that," she swore.
Yukari nodded with thought, popped the wedge of cheese into her mouth, then plucked a cat-eared youkai from seemingly nowhere. The youkai looked around in shock, her tongue hanging limp, evidently interrupted in the process of licking her arms.
"Chen, be a good girl and help our guest drink her tea, will you?" ordered Yukari.
Chen gave a small trill, resettled her tongue behind her teeth, and took a seat behind Reimu's head. She helped the shrine maiden to a sitting position, her back leaning against Chen's own, and slowly inched the teacup closer to Reimu's lips. Yukari cut herself another slice of cheese.
"So," she stated, her voice taking on a tone of tired sincerity. "Tell me Reimu. How much do you remember?"
Reimu thought, then choked, spluttering as the scalding tea was upended down her throat. She hacked and coughed, gasping for breath, her eyes watering as the boiling fluids burned her lungs. In an instant, the strength returned to her limbs, and in another instant the feline offender was thrown sailing into Yukari's platter. Hissing, drenched with searing tea, and covered with smashed cheese and broken ceramic, Chen retreated for the safety of the run-down shrine. Yukari laughed again, though with perhaps more enthusiasm.
"Well," she chortled, "That seems to have brought you to your senses, has it not? Nothing like a warm cup of tea to smooth an addled mind!"
Reimu grit her teeth. "Usually, said tea keeps well clear of the lungs."
Yukari paid her no mind, mourning the cheese smeared across the grass. "Ah, and look, my snack is ruined! Such fine cheese is hard to come by, you know. It's a real delicacy."
Reimu stomped her foot in frustration. "Who cares about your cheese, you hag? Your cat just tried to drown me!"
Yukari sighed. "Hag this, hag that. You really could come up with something new, you know. Look at you, you're standing on your own two legs, when just yesterday they had left your body behind. You could thank me, you know!"
Reimu squinted. "I should thank you, should I?"
Yukari frowned, her face forming into a facsimile of disappointment. "I carried you back from past death itself. I welcomed you into my home. I nursed you back to consciousness with my Shikigami's own blood, sweat, and tears. I even went out of my way to source the finest refreshments for your awakening, and all you can do is hurl insults at me? I'm hurt, Reimu, truly hurt."
Reimu stared at her feet for a moment, noticing for a moment how pale they were. She felt the clothes she wore, realising that rather than her usual red-white dress, she wore a purple and orange nightgown that was entirely too big for her. She sighed.
"Fine. I suppose I should be grateful for your help, Yukari. Thank you."
Yukari smiled, a tinge of smugness to her face. "Oh, not to worry, Reimu. What's a resurrection or two among friends? Now, since you seem to be more lucid, tell me. Do you remember what happened when you died?"
Reimu thought. Her mind was still hazy, but the sudden shock had parted much of the fog and given a sense of clarity to her.
"I believe so," Reimu started. "Yes. Someone… Killed Marisa. I heard it was Remilia, so I went to exterminate her. I guess I lost."
Yukari nodded. "Yes, you did. Why did you lose, Reimu?"
Reimu frowned. "I lost because… I didn't have time to think, I guess? She was just too fast."
Yukari shook her head, wagging her finger. "Don't be telling me lies, Reimu."
Reimu blinked, her face masked with confusion. "I'm not sure I understand..."
Yukari scowled, then shook her head until her expression returned to neutrality. "Reimu, we will talk about this later, at length. Continue."
Reimu thought. "Well… I don't know how much more there is to say, really. I think perhaps I was wrong, maybe Remilia was innocent after all? Perhaps I got carried away."
Yukari nodded again. "Yes, you did. Why is that?"
Reimu clenched her fist and bit her lip. "It doesn't matter."
Yukari slammed her fist into the air, cracks spreading out across the fabric of space where her hand made contact. Her face had not totally lost its bored indifference, but there was a genuine concern and frustration upon it.
"It does matter," she snapped. "You lost. You had a task to do and you failed it. Knowing why is indescribably important."
Reimu felt her eyes begin to water and squeezed them tightly to keep the tears contained. "Why do you care?"
She stood like that, eyes closed, for a few seconds of unnatural silence. The only noises were the beating of her heart and the dancing of her breath. As she listened, she noticed that no such echo returned to her from Yukari's chest. As the memory had returned, so now too were the emotions, those that she had hoped to set aside until her vengeance was complete.
Five seconds passed.
Ten seconds followed.
Reimu stood silent, her mind in turmoil. A hand met her shoulder, firm yet gentle, the touch breaking through the bars of her frantic cage. She opened her eyes, the tears taking this chance to flee. Yukari's face was calm, tired, but there was something else. A shred of warmth. An ember of humanity, not yet snuffed out through the countless years, though it had lain buried below unthinkable age.
"Reimu," stated Yukari, her voice level. "I know I may be cold, at times calculating, and always tired, but the truth is I do care for my Gensokyo. All you precious little creatures, so small and helpless. There was a time I fought tooth-and-nail for each life, a time when I used all the power at my fingertips to fight the darkness and build a better, safer world. Once, when I was young, I was the guardian of life that fought against evil and shadow, but that was long ago when time was young and the powers at play dwarfed the scope of your little world."
She closed her eyes, and when her eyelids parted once more Reimu saw countless millennia resonating within the pair of hazel pools. She saw the forming of her world from molten rock in a time when the Sun was a child and the universe was new. She saw fantastic, primal battles in the early days, wars spanning all across reality and into space beyond. She saw the young forces of a new cosmos fighting unknown billions of years before her eyes first opened. She shuddered, for the first time truly grasping the smallness of herself when faced with all of time and space.
Yukari sighed, the action bearing age incomprehensible. "Reimu, I am tired. I have lived since before time was counted. I cannot even say my age, my origins predate the concept of continuity. In my heart is still that desire for peace, for justice, but it is pressed below ten billion years and I know not how many more. I want a world that doesn't need me, one where the peace I fought so hard for as a child may carry on without me. Then, I may at last close my eyes and sleep forevermore."
Yukari's finger drifted upwards, the digit pointing towards Reimu's face.
"That, my dear Reimu, is why I created Hakurei. You are my successor, you, your ancestors, your descendants. You will bring peace to the world, and I will know that the time has come at last when I may die."
Reimu blinked, her mind turning over, utterly failing to process the worlds her ears fed to her. She stammered, spluttered, then eventually spoke, one single word emerging from her trembling lips.
"...What?"
Ran Yakumo
Heavily Delayed Shikigami
Ran Yakumo let out a grunt as the air was driven from her lungs. She staggered backwards, tripping over one of her tails and collapsing in a pile of fluffy fur. The fairy lying on her let out a groan, her tears soaking into Ran's dress and fur.
She shook her head, returning swiftly to her senses. She recognised the smell this fairy exuded, the smell of darkness and malice and magic so primal it challenged her Mistress's own. She reached a hand out, running it along the fairy's hair. It was slick with mud and, to Ran's surprise, copious amounts of black ink. She took a deep breath through her nose, savouring the magic, the salty aroma of sweat and tears, the earthy smell of mud and leaves.
After the moistness of the fairy's hair, the next sensation that Ran became aware of was heat. The fairy was hot to the touch, as though she had a fever. Her dress was sticky with sweat, and dusted with an assortment of magical residue both familiar and unfamiliar. Ran cleared her throat, adopting the motherly tone she often took when Chen retreated to beneath her bed and refused to emerge.
"Excuse me fairy," she asked, "Are you alright?"
Cirno's wings buzzed, and in a quick motion she placed distance between herself and Ran. She trembled, hugging herself tightly. Ran too rose once again to her feet, spreading her hands in a soothing gesture.
"No need to be afraid, fairy. I'm not going to hurt you."
Cirno said nothing, merely pressing against a tree and waving frantically at Ran, gesticulating wildly that she should go away.
Ran took a step closer, her face as gentle and reassuring as she could manage. She bent her knees slightly so as not to tower over the little fairy, a tactic she had often learned helped with calming small, frightened creatures such as kittens.
"It's alright," she trilled, "Please, just try to relax. Take a deep breath."
Cirno kept frantically gesturing in silence. Ran paused her advance, and nodded.
"Alright. I'll stay here, okay? I'm Ran. What's your name?"
Cirno squinted, her face suspicious and coated with fear. "...Cirno," she stammered.
Ran smiled. "Nice to meet you Cirno. Do you mind if we have a little chat?"
Cirno shook her head, her face growing angry. "No, no, no! I'm on to you, liar! I know what you're up to! One moment you're all sweet and motherly, then you're pluckin' people's eyes out! I'm not interested!"
Ran took a step back, confused. "Plucking… Plucking people's eyes out? Did you see someone do that? Please, I need you to tell me!"
Cirno shook her head, and as Ran reached her hand outwards, the fairy panicked and flew off into the forest. She snapped her fingers in frustration, her brain working at an accelerated rate as she processed all the information thrust before her.
"There's no doubt," she thought, the ramifications of her realisation sending a jolt of real fear stabbing through her heart. "That smell. That lightless, loveless magic. That was Her, the one even Lady Yukari fears. The fairy saw, she knows something. Perhaps she knows everything."
Her eyes snapped open, though in truth Ran's hyper-advanced brain had processed all such thoughts in the space of a blink. She dug her toes into the soil, dried leaves crunching beneath her feet.
"I must have that fairy," she stated, leaping into the air with no small measure of grace. It took the slightest of spaces for the calculations to be made, the trajectories considered, the forces wrangled into shape. Ran dove towards the retreating fairy, perfectly snatching her mid-air, coming to a landing with her little target wrapped up securely in her arms.
Cirno wriggled and writhed, sinking her teeth into Ran's arms. She felt magic blossoming in the fairy's chest, and quickly wrapped her in a seal, as Yukari had taught her. Such a hastily-constructed seal would be severely limited in power, Ran knew, but even such a ramshackle barrier aught to be enough to constrict the insignificant power of a single fairy.
That was, if said fairy had fit within the usual parameters Ran associated with fairykind. She had expected a mild trickle of power, a small spike at best. What emerged from Cirno's body was a blast of seasonal energy the likes of which Ran might equate with a powerful god like Okina Matara. Her little barrier shattered like so much wet tissue paper, and Ran felt her body lock up and freeze in place, as everything within a hundred metres came suddenly to a complete and utter halt. Frost grasped the trees, loose leaves paused their descent to lie stagnant and still in the air. Ran's eyes bulged with shock.
The fairy in her arms went limp, and through the icy stillness engulfing her Ran could feel the little creature's skin searing with heat. She felt the cold stillness began to thaw, movement returning slowly to her body in a trickle of warmth. Her mind raced, faster than a human could deign to follow, and the truth of the situation came swiftly to her mind.
Ran laid Cirno upon the ground, searching her for injuries, fractures of the body and soul. She found plenty, and to her shock realised that the fairy before her should, with the level of damage laid upon her, have returned to her ethereal form by now twice over. Her flesh was scorched, as though roasted in an oven, and her energy reserves were lower than Ran had ever seen in an intact fairy before.
She quickly made an array of notes, muttering aloud to herself as if to hear the information from a second source.
"So, you're a seasonal fairy," she commentated, searching for the most immediately life-threatening injuries marring Cirno's body. "Winter. You've been spitting out your own life energy, who taught you to do that? You can kill yourself like that, little Cirno, true death without return."
Ran clenched a fist, her eyes sparking with a sudden anger. Fairies were such innocent, helpless creatures. To take advantage of such a pure soul was unforgivable.
"Who taught you that? You must tell me when you wake. I won't forgive such irresponsibility!"
She laid flat her palm upon Cirno's chest, allowing her own energy to flow into the little creature like a swarm of bees, searching for wounds of the spirit and serving as thread to sew them shut. She gave a nod of satisfaction. Her solution, while perhaps crude, would certainly serve to keep the fairy stable until she could recover.
"You mustn't die just yet, little fairy. I need answers I believe you can provide."
Mamizou Futatsuiwa
Shrewd Shapeshifter of Sado
Reimu continued to stare, dumbfounded, her brain dancing aimlessly off into the incomprehensible space around her. The ramifications of Yukari's words threatened to overturn the very foundations of her world, yet she had said them with such a genuine expression… Although, who could really tell with Yukari? Odds were, this was a trick, or some kind of ruse. Reimu squinted, a sceptical frown dawning over her. She sighed.
"Yukari, you can spare me the trickery. I've had rather enough for one day. If you would just tell me whatever path you're trying to nudge me towards, this will be much simpler for both of us."
Yukari shook her head, her lips bending into a patient smile. "Oh, Reimu, there is no trick this time. For once I speak to you with sincerity, a sincerity reserved only for those worthy of my truth. Congratulations."
Reimu growled with frustration. "So, I should trust you, the one who always lies, when you lay claim to my power? I don't think so."
Yukari waved her finger, the digit still aimed squarely towards the shrine maiden. "Reimu, haven't you ever noticed how similar your powers are to mine?"
Reimu looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"
Yukari snapped her fingers, a dozen ethereal screens folding outwards from the space around her. Upon them, Reimu saw herself, saw the multitude of battles she had waged throughout her life. Yukari tapped at one.
"See here? And here? Barriers. Borders. Have you not noticed? You warp the space between spaces, casually, without even realising what you do. You have done this every day since childhood, with natural ease. Have you ever seen another besides myself show such a power?"
Her finger darted to another screen. "Here, look. Do you see the bullets pass through you, unaffected? Where exactly do you think you are? Not here, to be sure, yet not there. You are somewhere between, yes? Just where exactly do you think the space between spaces is?"
Yukari gestured all around her at the countless eyes, her arms thrust wide in a grand, dramatic gesture. Her voice was level, yet for once it seemed stripped of tiredness, awake, alert.
"Reimu, look around you. This is the Yakumo Gap, the space between spaces, the border of reality. Each thought of one or the other, each dichotomy of Yin and Yang, this is what lies between. Do you really think you could wake in such a space and keep your mind? The nowhere that is everywhere would break down any that saw it, but not you, for your whole life has been a grand desensitisation. You have seen this space behind your eyes from the moment your mother first entrusted the Hakurei mantle unto you."
Reimu shook her head, her heart racing. "No, that isn't possible. You're a youkai, not a god. A shrine maiden can't channel powers like yours!"
Yukari laughed. "Oh, Reimu, what I am transcends the borders of youkai and god. I am something altogether older, and the link between us something far more ancient. If you must give name to me, say that I am Primal, among the last still living."
Reimu shook her head again, confusion and frustration fuelling the anger and grief that lay heavy upon her heart. She couldn't bear any more change; was it truly so hard for life to give her just a measure of comfort? What did she do to warrant the utter dismantling of her peaceful life? She reached for her pockets, but of course found to her dismay that her talismans had disappeared alongside her clothing. Yukari giggled.
"Oh, you wish to strike me, do you? Yes, that might be a better demonstration than any words of mine. Go ahead then, I shan't bother to dodge."
Reimu swore. "Believe me, I'd love to knock that self-satisfied smile off your face and wring some truth from you, but I have nothing to do it with. I suppose it's too much to ask that you blast yourself?"
Yukari wagged her finger in derision. "Ah, now, Reimu, haven't you been listening? All of it, the yin-yang orbs, the talismans, the gohei… They're just props. They simply serve to connect you to the very place you now stand. You are reaching for a bottle from which to drink while swimming in an endless pool, ignoring the water unmatched in purity by any you have thus far drunk."
Reimu stomped her foot. "Please, Yukari, just give me a break. I'm too tired to deal with your games today. I've lost too much."
Yukari raised an eyebrow. "Humour me. What do you lose?"
Reimu sighed. "Alright, fine. I'll prove your story is a lie. Here, see, watch nothing happen."
Reimu swept her arm in an arc before her face. The space around her folded inwards, twisting, glowing, shining. Before her eyes a ghostly pink barrier wove itself together, shining with a light far brighter than Reimu had ever produced before. She stared, at a loss for words, searching for any trickery, any lies. She placed a hand upon the barrier before her, running her fingers across its surface. It felt the same, looked the same, indistinguishable from her typical creations save only by its sheer intensity. The feeling of neutrality, neither cold nor warm, rigid, unyielding, it was without question her barrier.
She blinked rapidly, looking at her hands as if seeing them for the first time. Yukari laughed once more, masking her face behind a fluttering fan. With a single deft movement, she ran a finger across the barrier between them, splitting it down the middle as though her digit was a scalpel.
"So, Reimu," stated Yukari, her voice returning to her typical bored indifference. "Do you believe me now? Is this proof enough to justify my claims, or would you like more?"
Reimu stood, opening and closing her mouth, her mind unable to process the thoughts swirling throughout it. She agonised in silence, clutching at the dancing questions, trying to isolate just one to ask. Her tongue swept across her lips, moistening them in preparation for her words.
"Did… Did my mother know?"
Reimu almost kicked herself. Of all the things to ask, why one so trivial?
Yukari shook her head. "No. She did not. She was not ready, and I closed my eyes for just a blink. When I opened them, she was in the ground, and the shrine was in your hands. All she told you as a child, she believed."
Reimu nodded, the answer helping just a touch to order all the questions she would ask.
"So then, why tell me? This all sounds like an awful lot of trouble, if you ask me. If readiness is something you want, I'm not sure I'm who you're after. I don't want anything to do with your troubles."
Yukari made no movement, her face inscrutable behind her fan. She was silent for a time, the quiet doing little to distract Reimu from the alien geometry twisting and roiling around her, tearing at her eyes with terrible claws. When Yukari spoke again, Reimu was unsure if the time in wait had been seconds or millennia.
"No. You are not ready, this is true. Nor will you be, I think, in the time that remains for you. Despite this, the situation has changed, and time may not be quite so patient."
Reimu planted her fists onto her waist. "Has it? How?"
"Simple. An incident has occurred."
Reimu laughed openly, her hand darting to her mouth to prevent spittle from spraying outwards in her merriment. "An incident? Just who do you think I am, you old hag? My entire life has been once incident after another! If that's all there is to it, I'll just beat up whoever's responsible and go home, no sweat."
Yukari's eyes flashed, her face still obscured behind her fan. "Is that so? How did that work out for you before?"
Reimu blushed, her face crumpling into an embarrassed scowl. "It would have worked out fine if my powers hadn't failed on me. If you tell me that you're responsible for them, I guess that's your fault, isn't it?"
Yukari laughed, closing her fan to reveal a tired but amused smile. "Ah, that cheek, such belligerence. I'd punish you if you weren't so young. Come to think of it, I aught to punish you regardless, and would, if it wasn't so cute. Reimu, you clearly do not understand what it is to bear a Primal bond, to sing in a Primal choir. Nor, perhaps, should such an understanding be expected of a human, not even a great human such as you."
Reimu blinked, the unexpected praise taking her off guard. All this talk was very out of character, the bluntness, the honesty, the praise… If it was honesty. If it was praise.
"Why are you acting like this?" Reimu asked.
"Like what?"
"Like… A real person? Normally you talk in riddles and lies, how am I supposed to take all this but as a trick?"
A tiny dash of genuine warmth spread across Yukari's face. "Take what I say as you will, Reimu. I am speaking to you frankly because, to be frank once more, I need your help. Gensokyo needs your help."
Reimu rolled her eyes impatiently. "When does Gensokyo not need my help? When do I get to take some time for myself, for once? After all the bragging you've done, selling yourself as an ancient force of goodness, why don't you solve whatever's going on yourself for a change?"
Yukari raised a finger. "Why is it always you and not me, you ask? The answer is simple. The incidents you have solved so far are, put in the simplest terms, beneath me. If I stirred to action over every picnicking vampire or every sleeping shinigami, I would never get a moment's rest. This time is different. The rules are out the window and all bets are off, but there is worse news, and it is this news that forces me to take action, yet forces me also to stay distant."
Reimu waved her hand derisively. "Go on?"
Yukari spoke again, her voice taking on a melodic quality that Reimu could not quite put words to. "Reimu, there are concepts so primal, so base, that belief in them is absolute. Concepts so abstract that they cannot be expressed except in song. These are the Primal forces, an ancient music from long, long ago. With faith comes power, with power life, and with life must always come ambition and desire."
The eyes in the space around her blinked, and for a moment Reimu was plunged into darkness. Yukari's words trembled through her, sinking through her flesh and tightening around her heart. Her ears picked up a strange, distorted music, though its source seemed to be the very air around her.
"The incident I speak of, the troubles poisoning my dear Gensokyo, they started with the witch's death, but how trivial a matter is a human's passing? The weak one, the empty one, she can hear just a fragment of a tired song, she cannot sing its truth to life, so I ignored her, I did not see what she might learn. She found a relic, a song that I had hoped forgotten, and in my moment of distraction sung it back to life, and the Primal Song of Darkness found words once more."
Yukari's eyes met Reimu's, cold, impassive, ancient. Reimu felt a shiver run down her spine, those eyes had never been so honest in their age before today.
The timeless monster sighed, the breath escaping from her lips carrying an incalculable weariness. "You cannot kill a Primal song, not with force, though I had hoped that she may never find herself again. The Song of Darkness is insidious, it worms into the soul and twists it. Once it sinks its roots into another, they lose themselves to shadow. Do you see now why it must be you, not I, that silences the singer?"
Reimu frowned. "Because you're lazy?"
Yukari shook her head. "Not this time, Reimu."
Reimu narrowed her eyes, suspicious. "Why then?"
Yukari's eyes turned black. Liquid darkness poured from her mouth, her nostrils, springing from her eyes like tears. Reimu jumped back, reaching for a gohei that was not present.
When Yukari spoke again, it was as though many voices sounded all at once, ringing from the origins of time into the distant future.
"With age comes burdens, Reimu. Each second spent alive piles weight upon the soul. Each decision leaves scars that never heal. There is a lot of darkness in me, Reimu, more than you could understand. For one to whom darkness answers, I am a feast to sate all gluttony. In the worst case, if I step into your world, if I take action and she sees my shadow, she might twist me to her service, and trust me, Reimu..."
Reality shuddered. The eyes turned hostile. Reimu felt all of time and space growling. Yukari's voice sounded once more, quiet, deafening.
"You do not want that."
Reimu staggered back, her heartbeat steadying. She scowled.
"I have fought you before, Yukari. I have beaten you before, remember?"
Yukari laughed, her fan fluttering once more across her face. "Have you? Oh, yes, I do remember. Goodness, that battle was stressful."
Reimu smugly smiled. "See?"
"It truly was difficult to test your limitations without killing you by accident. That would have been such a waste of a bloodline."
Reimu blinked. "Huh?"
It was Yukari's turn to look smug, a chance she seized with great aplomb. "Oh, well, the rules called for no impossible trickery. I am not so impolite as to break my own rules. Though, I must say, you did outperform my expectations back then, truly. I don't suppose I've ever seen such power from one so young. That said, it seems the rules are on hiatus. Have you ever visited the heart of a dying star? Journeyed beyond the event horizon of a black hole? There is no border that is outside my reach, please consider for a moment how many simple borders once crossed may lead to your destruction."
Reimu thought for a moment, then shook her head. "I don't buy it, nor am I particularly interested in hearing you ramble. Now I know what to look for, some black singer, right? Like the Outside World ones with the sack phones. That should stand out in Gensokyo, I'll just go beat them up and call it a day. Send me home, would you?"
Yukari shook her head, giggling. "Oh, Reimu, in the state you're in? Head in turmoil, heart in shreds, song drowned out by a screaming soul? To even consider battling a Primal being as you are… It is clear you still do not understand just what that means. Must I show you?"
Yukari adjusted her hat, the ribbon shifting at her touch. She thought for a time, her silence followed by another tired sigh.
"Oh, very well. If I truly must, though it has been centuries. My voice may be rough and hoarse, so you mustn't laugh should I stumble. Feel honoured, Reimu, that a mere human may hear this."
The countless eyes closed again, though this time in sombre thought. The air thrummed, as if tensing, readying to strike. Before Reimu's eyes, Yukari began to change. Her body glowed with a colourless light, somewhere beyond the visible spectrum. Her dress flared, the ribbons snapping to and fro. She opened her mouth, the same blindingly unnatural light shining out from her throat. Her voice sounded, heard, seen, touched, felt with every sense and from all directions.
"For just a moment, let me shed the mantle of Yukari Yakumo and show you what I truly am. Let me sing to you, the nameless song I call my own. Prepare yourself, Reimu, for no human mind has yet survived my melody."
Yukari took a deep breath, as all the space between held breath of its own.
Time slowed, if time even lived at all in such a space.
The nameless, ancient being of the nowhere in between began to sing.
Chen
Purring Double-Shikigami
Mamizou once more scoured the invitation nestled in her hand. There had been something not quite right about it, something sinister. A prolific trickster is difficult to deceive, for deception was to them a well-understood way of life. Still, whatever she had expected, it certainly wasn't the devastation before her.
She looked up, the sight of the destruction seemingly undampened by the knowledge of its presence. The scene continued to be staggering, like nothing she had ever seen before. The rift in the earth continued far into the distance to the left and to the right, unaffected by any obstacle that had stood before it. Those unfortunate homes that lay upon the path of destruction had been reduced to less than rubble, wood and stone shattered into splinters and dust. Even those further out had been utterly destroyed, with walls and roofs batted aside by the thunderous wind. The impact had torn apart the earth, and even now the last tremors still vibrated through the soles of her sandals. The shock had flipped candles, brought down torches, and all across the village fires crackled and roared. Humans busied themselves all around her, carrying buckets of water, hauling the injured free of crumpled homes, or merely fleeing aimlessly in panic.
She noticed, with some slight dismay, that her tail had returned to its full size, or rather, to rather larger. In her surprise at the carnage, her tail had puffed up, and it now stood straight behind her reaching well above her head. She could not have found a more effective means of outing herself as a disguised youkai, yet in all the panicked frenzy around her, nobody seemed to care.
With one step, two steps, and a few steps more she wandered over to the stunned Rinnosuke, reaching out with her fingers and tapping him on the shoulder. His eyes met hers, and she gestured for him to follow.
The two crept out of the village, Rinnosuke following Mamizou's lead. A minute of silence followed, before the tanuki suddenly stopped and took a seat upon the ground. Rinnosuke sat beside her, uncertain what role she played, and whether or not he was about to find himself attacked. He cleared his throat, dispelling his nervousness with a cough.
"Shouldn't we help the villagers?" he pondered.
Mamizou shook her head. "Naw. Not sure as we can, neither. Can ye put out fires, heal wounds, that malarkey? I sure can't, though I 'spose I could make 'em look different. Not sure that'd help too much, though."
Rinnosuke nodded. "No, I can't, but neither can the humans."
Mamizou flicked her tail. "Yeah, naw, yer right, but there's a bunch of 'em. They ain't gonna die from a lil' fire, ain't nothin' we can do for 'em they can't do fer themselves. Naw, the real problem's whatever's gone n' torn up the village, that'll be somethin' lil' humans can't do much about, but hey, reckon' I might, should I know what. Reminds me, ye know what done it, dontcha?"
Rinnosuke raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "Awfully nice for a youkai to care so much for humans."
Mamizou grinned. "I'm a sweetheart, ain't I? Ye didn't answer me question though."
Rinnosuke crossed his arms. "What makes you think I know any more than you here?"
Mamizou smiled, her fingers twiddling with a leaf. Something about the action seemed to Rinnosuke very aggressive, as though it carried an implicit threat of violence.
"Aw, hey, don't try 'n trick a trickster, young'n. Yer all as easy as an open book ta read. Kinda cute, really."
Rinnosuke nodded to himself. "I see, it's like that then. Well, perhaps I do know something, though not so much as you might hope, and it might be more than my life is worth to say that which I do know."
The finger wove a little faster through Mamizou's fingers. Rinnosuke smelled a dash of magic on the air. Powerful magic, the kind that only monsters of the highest level could produce. The tanuki chuckled.
"Maybe so, kiddo, but whose ta say it ain't more than yer life's worth ta not tell me neither? Just sayin'."
The shopkeeper nodded, as if suddenly the situation shifted to a more familiar setting. "Ah, I see. An explicit threat of violence, now, that's more what I expect."
"Naw, not a threat. More'va warnin'. I ain't about ta croak some kid for bein' a pest. Though, if keepin' secrets is so important to ye, I reckon' I can give a hand or two wit' that. Could turn ye inter summin' what can't talk, maybe."
"I see. You don't suspect me as the culprit, then?"
Mamizou laughed, much more vigorously than earlier. She snorted so hard that steam drifted from her nostrils, and had to fan at her face with her hat. Rinnosuke rolled his eyes.
"Suspect you, young'n? Ya serious? I like ta think I ain't bad at readin' folk, 'n I ain't sensin' more than a dribble o' power comin' from ye. 'Sides, I heard 'bout you, yer that shopkeep livin' outta town. Yer 'sposed ta be friends with both the witch 'n the shrine maiden. I reckon if yer involved at all, yer on my side o' things."
Rinnosuke sighed. "You aren't entirely wrong, miss..."
Mamizou extended a hand. "Mamizou Futatsuiwa, at yer service, though most folk 'round here call me That Bitch Tanuki."
Rinnosuke grasped the proffered limb with his own hand. "Rinnosuke Morichika."
The two shook hands, and Rinnosuke felt himself tossed back and forth by the tanuki's surprising strength. She grinned, drawing a pipe from the folds of her tail and affixing it to the corner of her mouth.
"Now then, how 'bout you tell me what'cha know? Ye ain't doin' a great job o' hidin' how steamin' ye are 'bout all this, but ye do seem ta know there ain't much ye can do on yer own. Reckon I can help ya, though I gotta hear what ya know first."
She pursed her lips, blowing a stream of smoke towards Rinnosuke. He coughed, waving it away, then sighed.
"Alright. Though, in exchange, you need to tell me what you know. For a grand trickster, it's rather apparent that you know something too."
Mamizou smiled, the expression difficult to discern through the cloud of smoke. "Deal."
Rinnosuke cleared his throat. "Should we go somewhere more hidden?"
"Naw. We're hidden enough here, ain't nobody else can see or hear us. That much's quite trivial fer me."
"Alright."
Rinnosuke paused, allowing himself a moment to recall the information clearly. "What I know. Well. Do you read the Bunbunmaru News at all?"
"That rag? Naw, not when I can help it. Get all me news from me fellow tanuki, reckon it says a bundle they're more reliable though."
"I see. Then, are you aware..."
"That the witch 'n the shrine maiden snuffed it? 'Course I am."
"Good. Well, let's just say, I read about it in the paper, but got the feeling I wasn't hearing the complete story. So, I decided to question the young Lady Remilia Scarlet myself."
Mamizou raised an eyebrow. "Ye pestered the vampire kiddo? Ye've got balls, I'll give ye that."
Rinnosuke trembled, remembering the red eyes in the dark room. "If you say so. I didn't feel like that at the time, especially not after seeing what that girl can do. Regardless, I had to know. Ah, much of what I learned, I don't believe it's right for me to share, but this I will. Miss Reimu was tricked into attacking the Lady Remilia by an unknown third party, one with the power to create paper on a whim. We suspected the new goddess Chishiki to be involved, so tonight she intended to question her."
"What about whatever wrecked up the village? Ye looked like ye knew what done it."
"Ah. Simple. I don't know if you saw it. Red flashes in the sky. Red lightning and deafening thunder. I don't see how any in Gensokyo could have missed it. I saw whatever hit the village, too, from the distance. It was the same shade of red. All of it, the lights, the strike, the same red as those eyes in the dark room. I've no doubt that our mystery attacker was the young Lady Remilia. I watched the battle from the roof of Kourindou. It was too far to see who fought, but whoever it was… I can't imagine that duel was anything but all out."
Mamizou took a long drag on her pipe, then lowered it to her knee. "I getcha. Don't suppose ya cottoned onta who won then, didja?"
"No, though I'm fairly certain whatever attack tore through the village was the finishing blow. The lights stopped afterwards."
"Yep, saw that much meself, though not a lick more. Had some tanuki nearer ta the action, though they ain't told me nothin' yet. Hope they're still breathin'. Hey, this paper… Ye wanted what I know? 'Ere."
Mamizou held out her invitation to Rinnosuke. The moment his fingers touched the paper, his eyes widened, and he nodded vigorously. The same sensation of senselessness. An object devoid of origin.
"The same person made this, I'm sure of it. So, I suppose it was this Chishiki goddess, and the young Lady was walking straight into a trap."
Mamizou tapped her pipe across her knee. "Interestin'. Maybe I aughta have gone regardless. Seen things meself. Thanks fer ya help, young'n."
The tanuki rose to her feet, extinguishing the smoking pipe with a finger, her ears and tail shrinking to hide once more below her clothing. She turned to leave, but paused, facing the shopkeeper again with a more serious expression.
"Ah, afore I go, kiddo, I gotta say. Those duellers… That weren't danmaku, y'understand? Nor were it just any cheatin', neither. Summin' real serious is goin' on, easily 'nuff ta kill a kid like yerself. Yer better off leavin' the heroics ta folks like me, goin' on home, waitin' all this out like a good boy, ya get me?"
Rinnosuke nodded. "I harbour no illusions as to my own strength, miss Mamizou. You aren't the first to insist I keep my head down. You should understand one simple rule, however. The weak have ways to fight without ever battling. I have lived in Gensokyo for some time, I have grown quite adept at dodging open conflict. You say spell cards are out the window? That matters little to me; there was never a chance that I might win a fight regardless."
Mamizou chuckled. "Well, don't say I didn't warn ye. Take care, kiddo."
Rinnosuke watched the youkai walk away, a slight swishing of a hidden tail swaying in her dress the only sign of her hidden nature. He felt the grass beneath him, slightly slick with dew, and his thoughts flashed to the grass at the Scarlet Devil Manor, mowed flat by the wind. Not even the rifts in the earth marking that battlefield compared to the single rent through the Human Village. He had deliberately kept his eyes from the ruined houses, but his youkai half could smell the blood. This was a battle that, like so many in Gensokyo, threatened to sweep aside the little folk like him without ever noticing their presence.
He glanced over to the village, making out the shapes of humans stills scurrying about in panicked frenzy. He heard the distant wail of crying children, of grieving parents. For a moment he pictured his own store, his beloved Kourindou, flattened by duelling nightmares. He took a moment to compose his thoughts.
"Reimu and Marisa," he muttered, "Stood up for the little people. We have all been protected by their labours. Perhaps we all forgot how small we really are?"
He kicked a loose stone, his fingers clenching into fists.
"Perhaps it is time for the little people to protect themselves?
[ ]
Song Sung in Time before Time
A Primal Song is a music that transcends time and space. It is a tune that is familiar, as though heard every day since birth, yet it bears an alien quality that cannot be described. There is a power in the music, a power so raw and fundamental that those subjected to its melody emerge changed. Some are driven to madness, others find within themselves an understanding that surpasses the limitations of their limited mind.
The Songs of Knowledge and Innocence are among these rhythms. It is the merest echo of this song that pounds within the chest of the goddess Chishiki Libre, the smallest, most pitiful refrain. Even the songbird Mystia, the singer chosen by such immemorial chorus, carries but a fragment of a true Primal lullaby. To hear such a song is to embrace madness, but to learn one in its entirety? Such is to become another note upon the music sheet, to fade into the tempo and leave the world of life behind. To truly sing a Primal song, one must first become the song, be one with the song, so that the lines between song and singer are not merely blurred but altogether erased.
Thus, to hear a Primal song in its complete form, one must hear it from the lips of a Primal being. Music made flesh, power deeper than logic or rational thought will allow in sight, that is the nature of a Primal creature.
To hear such a song in its purest form is to see beyond the veil of time, beyond the limitations of space. A chorus of the infinite. A symphony of the undefined.
It was such a song that the being before Reimu began to sing, the ancient, nameless power born of music in the time before time, the space between space, the outsider to observable reality. It thrust deep into Reimu's soul, splitting it down the middle with the first trembling chord.
Her eyes bulged, her mouth dripped with frothing spittle. She clutched at her chest, scrabbling so frantically her fingernails tore through her clothes and carved bloody lines into her skin. She tried to scream, but felt herself choking on the knot in her throat as it tightened around her windpipe. She felt the air forced from her chest, felt every muscle in her body tensing, aching.
She went first blind, then deaf, then devoid of sense entirely as the world unwove around her. She floated alone in nothingness, strangled by the song. She grappled, struggled, fought with all her might, but all her efforts the music knocked aside in an instant, infinitely stronger. She broke down, bawling like an infant, screaming for help, begging for death to escape the crushing song around her.
Time passed. The music grew tighter, tighter, Reimu wondered how she still lived, how the torture hadn't forced her heart to stop.
Seconds ticked by, or were they centuries? Her protests grew weaker, weaker.
She gave up. She stopped fighting, her spirit broken, defeated. She allowed herself to simply float adrift upon the music, letting it take her where it willed.
In that moment, it all changed. The crushing, strangling pressure became a gentle embrace. The screeching cacophony morphed seamlessly into the sweetest lullaby. The song was the same one, of that she was sure, but it didn't hurt her anymore.
She laughed, uproariously, writhing in mirth and joy as the song swept her up in its infinite merriment and carried her floating past the gates of sanity, the limitations of reality, the borders of time, of space, of her own mind.
Ten thousand years passed, perhaps ten million, Reimu did not care to measure. Time was passing, or perhaps it was not. She flowed along the eddies of the musical river, the rising and falling crescendos lapping at her like gentle waves, cool below a warm sun. Thought flowed out from her, she did not need it. She felt the urge to gather them up and keep them close, but an angry growl from the musical current reminded her of the pain brought by holding on. She would have smiled, if she still possessed a face to smile with. She was something without thought or form, floating freely, forever. How wonderful it was.
A thought passed lazily into her mind, its sudden appearance may have been startling had she possessed the urge to feel startled. She poked at it curiously, it had been perhaps a trillion years since she had last seen a thought. It was a strange thing to her.
"Sing," said the thought. "Sing with the song. Add your voice to the chorus."
Reimu would have frowned in thought, if either body or thought remained to her. "How shall I sing?" she responded to herself. "I haven't a mouth with which to sing from."
"You don't need a mouth to sing," replied the thought.
"How shall I know the words?" asked Reimu.
The thought grew mirthful. "The words are all around you, Reimu. You can't have missed them."
Reimu agreed. The thought made a good argument. Lazily, merrily, she added her own voice to the music all around her. It was easy, natural. The words were her sky and sea, the rhythm holding her aloft.
Her eyes opened. The music faded from around her. She felt thought return, stabbing into her soul like a knife. The grief of loss, the shame of defeat, the anger of deception, the confusion of a human being. She reached out for the music, but it was fading from her, growing quiet. Her voice trailed off, and she looked around.
Yukari stood before her… So she had thought once. Now she saw what really occupied the space to her front. The nameless singer's face was lit with surprise, joy, wonder. The tiredness was all but gone from those hazel eyes.
The music petered into silence. Reimu, Hakurei once more, stood before the singer, alone in the oppressive quiet.
The singer placed a hand upon her shoulder. Reimu could feel the pulse drumming though those fingers, beating to the tune that was to her now more familiar than her own heartbeat.
Reimu felt the turmoil of her mind, it burned within her. She found herself unable to avoid it, to silence it. She met the hazel eyes once more.
The singer's voice met Reimu's ears, this time void of music.
"Sing, Reimu," said the voice, "Don't fall silent. You sang with me, you added for a time your voice to mine. Do so again. Sing for me again."
Reimu began to cry, searching for the lyrics, scouring for the tempo. The pounding in her head grew louder, drowning out the melody she knew to be there still.
"I can't," she whined. "I can't see it! All these feelings in my way, they're all too loud! Take them away again, please, take them!"
The singer smiled. "Oh, Reimu, your feelings, my song did not remove them. Once more you think in binary terms. Here or there. Loud or silent. Thought or thoughtless. That is not my song or yours. That is not what it is to be Hakurei."
Reimu's world turned blurry, drowned in tears. "I don't understand. If feeling hurts, why need it? Why care about anything when it all just hurts? Why not just live carefree?"
"Ah, but that is just it, Reimu. Care, carefree, these are not opposites as you may think. To care is to lose, to not care at all is to die. By having, one must lose, but by having nothing one loses everything. Do not limit yourself to dichotomy. Do not see only yes or no, but see the spectrum in between as well. Care, but do not mourn care's loss. Feel, but do not bow to feeling. Live, but do not flee from death. When you sort into the absolutes of true and false, of good and evil, of light and dark, you fail to see the fuzzy space between. When you can accept it all, when you can fight for good yet never once begrudge evil, fight for life yet never once hate death, when you can love yet never once grieve loss, then you stand in the space between spaces, and nothing can ever hurt you. That is what it means to be Hakurei. Stop thinking of the pain as an illness. Embrace it as a part of you."
Reimu struggled for a moment to find the words, choked by tears and deafened by the clamouring within her mind. "How… How can I embrace it when it hurts so much?"
"Did my song not hurt?"
"Yes, it did, long ago."
The singer smiled. "What made it stop hurting?"
Reimu paused, thinking. She nodded, swallowed, and closed her eyes.
A moment passed, or perhaps all of time. A hoarse tune choked from Reimu's mouth, wavering, uncertain. It gathered strength from itself, growing stronger, louder, more certain, more alive. The song tore through the space around, the innumerable eyes shedding tears at the beauty of the music, the flowing river of the notes soaking into the unnatural space.
The tears poured still down Reimu's cheeks, unnoticed, inconsequential in the face of her song. All of it was meaningless in the face of that one great composition. The pain melted, swirling out from her and pouring into the song. All her doubt, her fear, her fury, it all flowed off into the music. A part of her, a part of the song, low notes serving as necessary contrast to the high.
Her music came to a halt. Her throat was raw, her lungs bruised, she had no clue how long she had been singing for. This pain, too, was good, or rather, it was, and that was good enough.
Yukari's hand still lay upon her shoulder, the tiredness returning to her face. When she spoke, it was devoid of the melodic chorus that had sung with it before.
"Well then, Reimu. Do you understand now?"
Reimu nodded, serene, yet determined. "Yes, Yukari. I think perhaps I do."
"Are you ready?"
Reimu thought for a moment, weighing up the numbers as she saw them. "No. I don't think I am."
Yukari smiled. "Well then. We will have to change that, won't we?"
Reimu Hakurei
Encore of an Ancient Melody
Sanae stared at the freshly-carved cave at the mountain's base, thinking to herself. The torn earth leading off into the distance, the splintered trees, the damage to the rockface spreading outwards hundreds of metres in each direction, it all pointed to the cave's being the crater of a monumental impact. She did not even want to imagine what kind of projectile could cause such a blow. Not even her patrons Kanako or Suwako had ever displayed this degree of destructive power, though she would not put such ability beyond their potential. Still, it was a frightening thought that one with such power would so recklessly discharge it.
A thought crossed her mind, a panicked, terrified realisation. There had been something altogether off in the corner of her psyche, bothering her from the moment she was woken, and until now undeciphered. She wet her lips, the thought spilling out into words.
"Kanako, Suwako, why can't I feel you?"
A gentle voice sounded from behind her, as if in answer to her question. "Are you alright, miss Sanae?" it asked.
Sanae span around, her heart almost leaping from her chest. She met the eyes of Kasen Ibaraki, eyes that were alight with a mixture of kindness and suspicion.
"Whuh?" she stammered, her hands clutching her gohei in violent expectation.
Kasen smiled, warmly. "I asked if you were alright, miss Sanae. Are you?"
Sanae frowned. "I'm not sure, of that, or of you."
Kasen nodded. "Not especially out of character, nor altogether unwise. May I investigate the crater?"
Sanae stepped aside, giving the hermit a wide berth. "If you like, though there's nothing there."
Kasen wandered into the crater's mouth, paused, then stepped into the darkness. Sanae waited, her eyes flicking nervously to the various animals assembled around her.
Kasen emerged, an expression of deep concern clinging to her. She hurried over to Sanae, and before the shrine maiden could respond, grabbed her by the arm. Sanae squealed, battering her attacker's head with her gohei to limited effect.
"What are you doing?" babbled Sanae, "Eeek! Ah! Let me go!"
Kasen released her, sighing in relief. "You seem to be untouched. I am relieved."
Sanae pouted, waggling her gohei in the air in a stressed manner. "What was that for?" she asked.
Kasen nibbled at her finger, Sanae's question altogether ignored. She began muttering to herself.
"An energy like that, it must be… Though why here, why now? Why such an attack? It doesn't line up..."
Her muttering was interrupted by a burst of wind, blasting into her with the force of a hurricane, slamming her into the mountainside.
"Don't ignore me!" squeaked Sanae, her face utterly indignant.
Kasen peeled herself from the rockface, the action sending a scattering of stones and dust bouncing down from her own rather smaller crater.
"Ah, yes, of course, I apologise," Kasen proffered. "It was not my intention to ignore you, I simply had rather more important information to consider."
Another burst of wind returned Kasen to her little crater, the strike accompanied by an irritated stomp from Sanae. "What do you mean, more important?"
Kasen once more plucked herself from the mountainside, this time with a touch more sternness. She locked her eyes with Sanae, trying to impress on her the danger all around them.
"Sanae, this is serious. Can't you smell it? Taste it? There is evil magic all around us, soaked into the air and ground. It's a smell which I remember from long, long ago, to find it here is… Concerning, to say the least. This is no time to be feeling hurt or shunned."
She frowned, her body readying to deliver a lecture. "Come to think of it, you're a shrine maiden. You should have sensed it yourself. You really need to train more, your role isn't just pummeling youkai, you know."
Sanae rolled her eyes. "No time for hurt feelings, but plenty for lengthy criticism then?"
Kasen thought for a moment, gently biting her thumb. "Yes, perhaps you are right. We must discuss this when time permits, however. You really can't be slacking off on your duties, people do rely on you after all. Now, you were muttering something about your goddesses before, weren't you?"
Sanae frowned, unsure whether to trust the hermit with such dangerous information. She didn't particularly like the idea of announcing to the world that she, and by extension the entire Moriya shrine, was entirely vulnerable. She laughed, flapping her hand as if to wave away the questions.
"Oh, nothing much, really. Just… I was concerned they'd get mad at me for letting the shrine collapse. I'd, ah, better go fix it up. Before they get back… From, ah, the… Party."
Kasen squinted. "The goddesses Suwako and Kanako are both out at a party, coincidentally on the same night that an unknown attack on a scale unseen for decades, if not centuries, happens to strike? An attack which left a crater steeped in evil magic?"
Sanae nodded frantically. "Yes, oh yes, they are. Well, I'd best be heading off, hadn't I?"
Kasen sighed. "Sanae, any other day, I'd punish you for lying, but other matters demand my attention. Shall we add that to the list?"
The hermit turned from the retreating shrine maiden, her attention returning to the trail of destruction carved into the earth. It stretched on beyond her vision, a deep rift carved into the ground by some tremendous force. She looked at her hands, one shackled, one bandaged. Both she knew possessed the strength for such a blow, but even for her, it would take some effort. The thought that something, someone, possessed that kind of power with all such force entailed, and was still willing to loose it… It was disconcerting, though not so much as the familiar, hated scent that sickened the air like a cruel malaise.
She turned to the assembled animals, her friends of the earth and sky, and smiled.
"Well then," she began, pacing back and forth like a general delivering a speech. "It would seem that Lumia was not so gone as we had all hoped. We need to find her, quickly, before she builds an army. I can think of several youkai that may prove vulnerable to her trickery, youkai that even I may struggle to defeat. We need to learn whatever we can, my friends, everything that might lead us to her. I entrust this task to you, go out across the earth, the sky, into the forests, across the plains. Find Lumia, and tell me where she is. I must search for Reimu. We will need her too, I believe."
Her words were followed by a fluttering of wings and a clattering of hooves and claws, as the eyes and ears of the Horned Hermit spread out across Gensokyo.
Koishi Komeiji
Blinded Eye of Endless Sight
Chishiki stood in silence, totally alone in the forest's heart. The quiet of the night was unbroken by voice or footstep, the slightest rustling of the leaves and the scuttling of insects the only sound to warm the lifeless cold. Her head was bowed, her face impassive. Time passed in isolation, first standing, then sitting. She ran a hand across the stone before her. A quiet voice crept from the goddess's throat, barely audible even through the deafening peace around her.
"Here lies Marisa Kirisame, a most unusual magician… Are those the words by which you are to be remembered?"
She paused, silence once more filling her lungs. Her fingers felt the rough edges of the stone, the simple chiselstrokes of the epitaph. The hem of her sleeve brushed against the gravestone, as though wiping a tear from its cheek.
"Against the odds, I have won, haven't I? Didn't this have to happen? You or me, certainly. No living being will not fight against their own destruction. No story will abide the closing of its final page."
The grave said nothing in reply, its silence mocking, judging.
"Why am I here?" Chishiki asked, as though the grave might break its silence to answer her. "Your story is finished. You cannot hear me, nor would you care if you could. This, I do not regret. We fought. You lost. I lived. I am knowledge, a story, a reprise of an ancient song without love or life. Your death means nothing to me but a furthering of ends. Yours, and the others, and those still to come. There is no logical reason for me to be where I am."
The grave continued to ignore her. Chishiki smiled, a smile devoid of any mirth.
"I suppose a sense of drama? A heartfelt monologue upon the enemy's grave. What else is there to do in the moment of triumph? Is this the moment where I repent for all my lies? Lay bare my soul and beg for your forgiveness?"
The goddess rose once more to her feet. "Repentance… How foolish a concept. What is done cannot be undone, whatever one's feelings. We all do as we believe is best, we choose whichever path we think it wisest to walk. I own my past, there is no logical point to sadness or regret. How pitiful I'd be were I to waste my time on such trivialities, when all the powers of life and death are even now mustering to strike me down."
She turned to leave, then stopped. She was not so alone as she had thought. The air before her held an unfamiliar youkai, clad in yellow and green, a broad-brimmed hat perched jauntily upon her head. Chishiki froze, genuine shock clawing at her.
"How..." she stammered, quickly regaining her composure and returning her face to a mask of warmth. "How did you approach me without my knowing, dear girl? The knowledge of another's presence, it should have been scrawled across my pages."
Koishi blinked, slowly. "Oooh! Me? Me! You can see me?"
Chishiki laughed. "Oh, who else, my dear? I see no others around, do you? Tell me, for how long have you been watching me?"
Koishi shrugged. "I dunno. A while, I think. I feel like you hurt someone, maybe?"
Chishiki frowned. "My dear girl, I hurt someone? You must be confused."
Koishi nodded vigorously. "Yep! Most of the time! Though, I do get the feeling you hurt someone here. Maybe that's why I've been following you!"
Chishiki thought deeply. The realization struck her like a solid punch, forcing the wind from her chest in a gasp.
"You say some time. By that, is it possible you mean two days, or more?"
The floating youkai nodded again. "Ooh, yes, yes, that sounds right! I'm not too sure, remembering is hard! I just know you've been sad since then, and getting sadder and sadder. I thought we could be friends. I thought you might cheer up then!"
Chishiki staggered backwards, for once devoid of words. A fluttering of pages echoed from within her as she frantically scoured for appropriate response, but to her horror, she found herself answering honestly.
"Dear girl," she stated, her voice devoid of light or life. "You are wrong. I have no need of sadness or regret."
She clamped her hands over her mouth, but too late. Her thoughts, so ordered, so carefully arranged, descended into turmoil. Why had she spoken truthfully? How could she be so careless?
Koishi frowned, confused. "If you aren't sad, then why are you crying?"
Chishiki withdrew her hands from her face, opening her mouth to respond.
"I am not..."
Moonlight glistened in the beads of moisture upon Chishiki's hands. The same moon had shone down two nights prior, the same glistening, impartial light. She shook her hands, hoping to banish the offending tears from her fingers.
Koishi smiled encouragingly. "It's okay to cry, you know. I cry too sometimes, when people don't see me."
Chishiki wiped the tears from her cheeks, uncertain how to respond. She scanned the creature before her, searching for a trick, a trap, anything to explain her own illogical behaviour. Her eyes met Koishi's, the first, the second… The third. Chishiki screamed, the sudden terror escaping from her before she had a chance to stop it.
Koishi pouted. "Owww, hey, loud!"
"You're..." Chishiki stammered, frantically searching for her usual poise. "You're a satori, but how… I should have noticed!"
Koishi shook her head. "I'm a Koishi!"
Chishiki began to mutter, her rapid words spilling outwards from her mind unmolested, unfettered by the shackles of restraint. She spoke with such speed that her words blurred together, almost totally impossible to distinguish.
"A satori, there shouldn't be one here. I'd have known, however near or far! How… I didn't plan for this! What should I, what should I… There must be some..."
Koishi swept the confused goddess into a bone-crushing hug. Chishiki pressed her head to the satori's chest, listening closely, searching for the music she knew should be there, but nothing met her ear. She heard the song within herself, faint, an echo, the merest fragment. The song of a satori should be immeasurably stronger, yet still, silence. No music, not the faintest note or the most hesitant voice. Her body tingled with real fear; this did not fit within her plans! How could it have? A silent satori, it was impossible! She pawed through page upon page, searching for an explanation, but none presented itself.
The arms around her set her free, the smiling, silent figure seemingly distracted. Chishiki gave no second thought, took no time to plan. For the first time since first she manifested, Chishiki acted purely on impulse.
The goddess fled, with all the speed her legs would grant her, and gave no glance behind.
Satori Komeiji
Eye of Primal Knowledge
An important chapter. One I hope I have executed to the standard it requires. Only you can decide, I suppose, whether or not I find success in this.
Regardless, some major events here. No action, as there was in the Feast, but I think perhaps comparable spectacle. Primal Songs, a crying goddess, and the unwraveling of time and space...
Gensokyo is aware now. Those still free surely will resist... Yet what can even terrors of the youkai magnitude do against a Primal song? Can such a fundamental abstraction be fought? Can it be killed?
I bet none of you realised how great a threat Lumia actually was. There's a reason the name alone put fear into the implacable, inconquerable Suwako and Kanako.
Maybe too this does at last explain the power of the ink-black heartbeat? Though, "trivial" may not begin to describe the insignificance of Chishiki's share of the music... Even one note of such a melody has power.