Touhou belongs to Team Shanghai Alice. So do concepts, characters and everything else you have experienced while playing the game, except the dishes. Here's another man who wants to use his ideas for a story.

"Yeah, I know, you always wanted to know…"

Snipers, check.

"I've always kept this a secret…"

Snipers ready. Assault team, check?

"For so long… I don't remember how long…"

Assault ready. Escort, check.

"Those sorrowful days when I had to make that decision…"

Escort ready. Negotiator, check?

"And now you will be the first person to learn of my reasons for…"

Negotiator!

The negotiator's head jerked up in sharp response to the call-sign from an earpiece. "Negotiator, ready. Base, check?" the negotiator spoke to a hidden microphone in the collar, shoving a hand into a pocket.

"Base, ready. Let me make this clear once more, that man we got cornered on the roof, he has a remote for blowing up the Big Bank's vault. Techies reported a no-go for defusing, claiming the wires are all of the same color. The President has given the green light for lethal force, but Command believes we can do this without drawing attention from the citizens in the city with gunfire. Escort, you are to escort our negotiator to the roof."

"Roger base."

"The criminal is demanding the release of his fellows from custody, along with a safe trip out of the country. You know that isn't going to happen. Negotiator, it will be your job to convince him to surrender peacefully. He looks to be unarmed at the moment, but if he threatens your life, the snipers will fire, so you are covered," the commander at the base station said over the police radio frequency. "Try to bring him out alive, alright?"

The escort officer, a S.A.T. officer himself, laid a hand on the negotiator's shoulder in his team. "Alright, you ready for this?"

"Yes, I am," the negotiator nodded.

"I know this is pointless now, but we've got procedures to follow," the officer whispered softly. "Ensure that the listener at base station can hear you and the criminal speak. Never respond directly to orders given over the earpiece. Can you do a mic test?"

"Mic, test," the negotiator complied. "Base, do you hear me?"

"Affirmative, negotiator, I hear you loud and clear," a female voice confirmed the hardware's working condition. The listener's job was to listen to the negotiations and hopefully would be able to point out certain keywords used by the criminals that would affect them most.

"Base, permission to move out," the escort officer spoke into his microphone.

After getting the green light, they began the short trip to the roof, comprising of one last set of stairs in the dim stairwell. A couple S.A.T. members were already at the closed door, crowbars in their hands, ready to breach at any moment. "Orders, sir?" one of them asked.

The negotiator only heard muffled shoutings from the supposed criminal on the roof, beyond the door, as a silent command was given to breach. Within seconds, the negotiator felt a cool breeze flow into the stuffy stairwell; the door was open.

"The path is clear ahead, negotiator," the escort officer patted those shoulders again. "Go on ahead and do your magic, we're all here for you."

The negotiator took the first step beyond the confines of the stairwell; apparently the criminal hadn't heard them, judging from his continued shouts of demands to the cops at street level. If they were ten levels above the ground, the negotiator felt nothing. Height was never a factor in any case, the outcome was.

With only four years of experience after graduation from the sponsored course in a local university, the police force had recognized this negotiator's latent talents in her work. There was never a failure in hostile negotiations; the negotiators in the police force prided on their work.

"Escort to negotiator, take the next step. The road is clear ahead, two arms width on both sides, at least."

Nodding in reply, the negotiator took the next step, and another, followed by a quicker pace. As the pace increased, the distance between the silent haven of the stuffy stairwell and the desperate shouting of the criminal decreased. Each step that you take, you reduce the distance to your goal. Do it right the first time, do it well, and we can all go home, the negotiator recalled other colleagues' advice.

It seemed that the criminal, a man judging from the voice, had noticed the negotiator's arrival behind him. "What… what's this?" the man shouted. "Why did you bring a blindfolded girl up here? I want a chopper out of this place!" If he was pointing a gun at her, she wouldn't have known.

The negotiator lowered her head slightly and raised both arms in the air. "I came in peace, sir," she turned her back to the man, showing her unarmed and unprotected back. Turning around again, she lowered the arms. "You can call me…"

"I don't want to talk to a negotiator! Tell your commander to heed my demands, or the Bank goes up in flames!"

"The Bank that you speak of, I have savings in it."

"Then you understand the seriousness of the situation! Release my fellows, give us a safe road outta here, we leave you your money and the building. No chopper, no fellows, no money, get it?"

"It's not just me, a large part of the city has life savings in it," she said, seemingly ignoring the man's demands. "You understand what happens if you blow that up?"

The man was silent for a while. The negotiator had thought he was going to hit her, but she then found out otherwise. "You blue shirts down there, I'm giving you only five more minutes to get the damn chopper here, or the Bank AND this lady here goes up!"

"You don't seem to realize, the civil service has funds going through that bank."

"What?" the man sounded as if she had caught his attention. Pressing on the advantage, she explained that without the bank, funds for a chopper to be flown in would be cut off, and they would not be able to meet his demands in the end. When she thought the man hadn't bought her story, she continued talking about bureaucracy, red tapes and all the necessary paperwork that needed to be done, that they should be given ample time to clear everything so that a helicopter would be brought in for him in the shortest possible time. Explaining that fear would not hasten paperwork, but actually risked messing up, causing more delays.

"If time is what they need, so be it! Just give me the damn chopper out of here soon!" the man barked.

Base to negotiator, good job, you bought us time, now focus on the task.

She didn't smile or murmur a reply, simply went down on one knee and clutched her right shoulder on the back with her hands, surprising the criminal. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing," she shook her head while replying in a weak voice. "Just some… old injuries."

"Punks decided to send a girl with back problems? That's where the money from that bank went to, hiring handicapped folks like you? It should have gone to us!" the man taunted.

"The police," she answered in an equally weak voice. "They won't pay me for this injury. Out of the line of work, they said."

"That's why me and fellas robbed that money well. We've got families to feed too. Won't be here if not for 'em! Won't be here if not for fellas and families! Won't be here if…!"

Negotiator, criminal has repeated the word 'family'. "Families?" she raised her head. "I'm sure your family wants you home In one piece."

"Take off that blindfold and look at me, cop," the man growled. With seemingly much effort, the negotiator removed her blindfold and showed her face, staring right ahead with her red-tinted eyes.

Or eyes that seemed to be dead, not registering anything that she saw. She was a blind negotiator.

"Blind girl working for the police? All those talks about giving you handicapped folks a second chance? What about us? We work hard, they screw us hard!" the man seemed to go back to the edge of the roof again while she retied the blindfold over her empty eyes. "Tell your government that they are squeezing us dry! They live in the mansions while we live in houses not meant for…"

"Humans?"

"What?"

"Not meant for humans?"

"That's what I want to say. You got a problem, cop?"

"A house… is it so filthy that a human cannot live in it?"

"What are you saying?"

"I used to have a home," the negotiator told him. "A family."

"I don't want to hear your sob story, woman."

"These people, they are the best I ever had. You do know the warmth of a family, don't you? You are a married man, after all"

"I never said I was married!"

"You had a family," she pressed on. "And you still have."

"Nonsense, I don't have one."

"Then why are you doing this? Didn't you say it was for your families?" the silence that followed told her that she had caught him in a speech trap. He seemed to be too agitated at the moment to think carefully. When she got no more response after a few seconds, she spoke again. "Talk to me, sir, talk to me, tell me about your family. Tell me something that I don't know."

"The heck do you want to know about me? You're a cop, you finish your job here, you go home drinking with your chaps in office, and us fellas sit in the cellblock like rats!"

"Talk to me," she repeated. Talk to me. When you are talking to me, you aren't doing anything else. Just talk to me. "I want to understand your situation. Make me. My job isn't to make you surrender, I'm sent here to assure you of an open road out of this place."

Negotiator! What are you saying?

Ignoring the voice in her ear, she went on, recalling facts from the files read to her while still at the base station. "What made you come all the way out of home, sir? A sick family member? Education for the children?" the man continued to remain silent. "Or perhaps, a debt you can't repay? A loved one held in ransom…"

Listener to negotiator, I think I caught a sharp intake of breath.

Of course you heard it, I heard it too, she thought to herself. "Money is always the problem, isn't it?"

"Got that right," he finally replied, albeit in a defeated tone. "You folks living well in this city will never understand." The criminal was right; they were in the middle of a large section of a city known for beautiful skyscrapers and luxurious houses occupying expansive acres of lands each. In short, the rich side of a city, while the other side laid common housing and slums.

The man, surprisingly, continued talking without any further prompts. "Girl got kidnapped by them thugs, local cops can't do it, thugs gave me a week. It's already two weeks here, got word girl got shot. Won't happen if there was money."

"What do you plan to do with money when you get it? What about your other fellows?"

"Assisted me when they hear there's money. It's always money. They got families too, you know?"

The negotiator, sensing a small amount of relaxation from the man, began working her magic, chatting with the man over the next half hour, allowing such time to pass without him remembering his actual situation on the roof. Such was her skills, unparalleled among the coppers; she had taken her studies in psychology seriously. Life experiences, maybe to a large extent too.

"Money," the man sighed, accompanied by the sound of a gun clattering to the ground. So he was armed. Good thing I didn't attempt Plan A. It had also felt as if the man was sitting down on the roof, some short distance away from her. "They always say that money solves all problems. Why won't it save my daughter?"

"Money did not save my family, either."

The man gave a weak laugh at that. "What happened?"

No… I don't want to talk about it. Got to improvise this… "Sir, I've got word, the chopper is about ready."

Negotiator! That is a negative! Repeat, that is a negative! What are you saying now, damn it!

"About time," the negotiator heard a guffaw. "Them white collars do work better without the fear of a bomb blowing them flurry heads. How long more before it comes for me?"

"I have never taken a helicopter," she admitted. That's the truth. Seen enough of the patches of clouds. "Who knows? But it will come."

Negotiator, Negative! Chopper is not inbound to your position!

"Tell them to hurry up, then," then, a heartbeat later, "Forget it, fear slows them, like you said. Tell me about what happened to your family."

"I… My family…"

"What's wrong, woman? You heard me story, it's your turn."

"I…"

Base to all units, President has ordered lethal action. All units to comply! Negotiator, withdraw slowly, snipers at your three o clock will fire once you are clear.

However, to the eyes of an unseen police observer from another building, the negotiator did the exact opposite, moving into the line of fire, as if to put herself between guns and flesh. I'm not yet done with my work. This man can be convinced, just like my previous ninety-nine cases. "I guess… I could talk about that."

The man sounded as if he was moving closer to her, still on her left side. "Tell me then," he said in a voice as if they were having a normal conversation between friends.

Snipers to base! Negotiator has moved in the way! We do not have a clear shot! Repeat, we do not have a clear shot, over!

Base to escort, grab the damned negotiator now!

Escort to base, the man is armed with a gun. He might shoot her if we burst in now.

Base to escort, you do your damned job! Negotiator, withdraw immediately! Snipers, reposition slightly!

The voices in her head crackled with shoutings from all units involved in the operation, but she ignored them, totally blocking them out of her head. However, while doing so, she had totally forgot about the man and instead kept silent throughout while trying to mentally block the voices out. Too late, she sensed the man suspecting something was wrong. "What?" the man's voice turned hostile again. "What are they saying?"

"No, never mind," she shook her head, trying to bring the conversation back, but failed. The situation worsened as she heard the man cursed and pick his gun up again. "Snipers! Damn you, woman, you are distracting me!"

Base to snipers, the President has given orders to fire AT ONCE!

Sniper to base, 75% risk of hitting our own!

Base to snipers, FIRE IMMEDIATELY!

Escort to negotiator, withdraw! Roll backwards and we will drag you out!

A loud shot rang out from a mile away as the police sniper complied with the order. The negotiator heard the shot clearly, mentally visualizing the path of the lethal round. I've failed. This is my unit's first failure in a situation, and there's only one person to blame for the failure. With superhuman speed and unexplained timing, she raised herself high enough to shield the exposed and still stunned criminal with her body, taking the shot cleanly through her stomach and embedding itself into the criminal's left thigh. The negotiator felt nothing as the metal burned through her flesh.

Negotiator hit! Repeat, negotiator has been hit!

Base to assault team, commence!

The voices continued in her head as she fell to the roof tiles, but all she heard was the criminal's moaning in pain; he was still alive. "My… my family…" she breathed out to the unseen man. "T-t-hey are… are… my little… sister…"

As the last breath of air left the limp body, something rolled out of her skirt pocket, hit the ground and voices began emancipating from it.

This goes out to Reimu Hakurei, wherever you are, whatever you have become, it doesn't matter.

I'm now back on Earth, although not the same world that I lived in back then. The air, the people, the environment, it has become polluted, just like Gensokyo has become. Even my home, the people around me I called 'family', they were afflicted too. When Usutho struck at our home, I took it upon myself to battle her, knowing you had failed. The gall of somebody to take the Hakurei shrine maiden's blood before I did!

I cannot take that lying down, I simply can't. I had to battle the hell raven. It was during the dead of the night that she struck. Big mistake on her part, wouldn't it be? Big mistake on mine, I, like the rest of Gensokyo, underestimated her strength; her powers were beyond the gods that had themselves hinted to the raven about a hidden power in Former Hell.

The first that struck me was something equivalent to what the humans here called 'an atomic bomb'. The impact tore me through the night sky, despite my powers being at their peaks, my body glowing like a shooting star across Gensokyo before plunging down into Misty Lake itself. Usutho did not stop at that; she went on to deliver a nuclear hell on my family. I pray they still live today.

Was this what you had faced underground? A nuclear hell raven? Why did you not retreat back to the surface? If not for my youkai self, I wouldn't have survived that attack, much less you, a true human being with limitations in your body. So what if you are 'The Shrine Maiden'? You went on without us, and when you went on, you left us behind.

Wasn't it a deal? There would be a rematch between us! Why did you go back on your end of the deal? What do I do now? My pride is at stake!

*click… click*

Yukari found me drifting on the lake hours later and told me about her grand escape plan out of Gensokyo. I didn't want to leave. I asked about my family, but she couldn't give me an answer. Then I realized I was looking at an endless night sky; I was blinded by Usutho's attacks, somehow. Such was her power. All Yukari promised was an opportunity to change my fate, to recover and one day return to battle in your name. Without my consent, she shoved me into that gap of hers and I found myself in this world… once again.

Immediately, I felt the effects of what the humans here termed it as 'radiation'. There was this sharp piercing pain on my back and soon, I realized my wings had shriveled off, just like that, effectively and unceremoniously ending my life as a youkai. The weaknesses of you humans crept into me instantly; over the following week I began experiencing those 'illnesses' you claimed to always have when I demanded a rematch. My fangs refused to elongate themselves at the sight of human blood; I was able to walk under the hot sun without a shelter of any kind.

Yukari had this big mansion in Japan, some place she said you knew about. I lived in that place for a mere month before something finally hit me; not seeing the people I called 'family' making it to her mansion brought me a lot of guilt. Here I am, safe and in one piece, while the rest of my family probably already dead in Gensokyo.

Guilt. I hope you feel that for not carrying out your side of our deal. During my stay, Yukari asked me about this deal I had with you. I was supposed to sup on your blood if I won. Both of us then wondered why you would even agree to such a deal. Was it your confidence in yourself? Or were you simply looking down on youkai?

Yukari, despite her thousand year wisdom, could not give an answer.

*click… click*

Reimu, continuing from before, alright? Hope you are still listening.

A few months later, Yukari found an answer for me; psychology. She told me a school nearby happened to be offering lessons for understanding the human mind. Naturally, that interested me, as I'm really eager to understand your reasons. However, when she mentioned that the course was sponsored by the civil service, I almost wanted to turn it down. I don't need humans' pathetic help! I can handle the costs on my own!

Yukari reminded me about our present situation. I hated her reasoning, but when I thought about the deal again, something within me made me reconsider.

Long story cut short, I realized I was indeed the immature 'little girl' you had been labeling me in Gensokyo all the time. But despite all my tantrums and frustration with my blindness and the limits of a human's body, I somehow made it through after three years. Yukari counted them for me; I lost track of time in my imperishable night world.

Three years did a lot to me; I had even completely forgotten about my deal with you, and, as a whole, Gensokyo. I was even able to detect the hidden feelings while conversing with others, and it was with my newfound skills that, during a short conversation with Yukari over dinner, only two members of my 'family' made it to Earth. One of them was Patchy; she didn't stay at the mansion at all, simply wandered off on her own, never to be heard again. The person who had been caring for me, feeding me, clothing me, aiding me in my daily life, was not Yukari, but my own little sister.

I remembered.

*Click… click*

(Soft voice, almost whispering) Hi Reimu, it's me, again.

This recording is four years late, but I'm current busy with work. In fact, I'm on a mission right now, so I try to be brief. Yukari claimed she had 'friends in high places' who were interested in my skills and understanding in psychology and offered to work for them. Gap hag convinced me to go, saying the money could contribute to the household, where I learnt that some of the others who survived were also staying in.

This job deals with the human mind too. They called it 'negotiator', where my job was to dissuade their 'targets' from violence and to make them surrender. They told me to simply play with their targets' minds until they surrender themselves. Sounds impossible, right? Wrong. That's why you humans are always weak. Always played in your mind.

My unit prides itself in successfully averting a violent end in every situation so far, and I have did my part in upholding this proud achievement in my last ninety nine assignments, never allowing myself to fail. I have always wondered what those humans looked like, their reactions upon realizing they had been either duped or somehow mentally broken down thanks to my words. But then again, feeding on fear no longer fills me; I've been reduced back down to a human too. I wonder if I had these skills to begin with in Gensokyo, maybe you would have survived?

Recently I began to think about our little deal again. Analyzed your conversation with me, which was still fresh in my mind. Scrutinize it. Dissected and mulled over it for hours. And finally, after seven long years of darkness, I found my answer: pride. You had your pride as the proud Hakurei miko, nobody was going to belittle you for who you are… or were. Pride,I realized, is the number one enemy of a living thing; it gives us meaning to live on, but yet kills us when we fail. That applies to you, Reimu, your pride killed you. I swear I would have let you live if you had lost to me. After all, I don't drink much. Oh well, being 'The Shrine Maiden' must have made you so hard to understand, no wonder you had so little friends.

However, for now, there's something I should share with you; my little's sister supposed instability.

The day you broke into my mansion, you saw everything that I went all out to hide; a Dirty Little Secret. Why is she 'dirty'? My younger sibling probably looked just as normal as I expected her to be, as you would also expect her to be. Yeah, I know you always wanted to know. I've always kept this a secret for so long… I don't even remember how long, those sorrowful days when I had to make that decision.

And now you will be the first person to learn of my reasons for-

Negotiator, ready. Base, check?

*click*

A.N.: I have no prior experience in the field of justice, so this is definitely pure fantasy. Also, my first attempt in writing in such a style, feel free to criticize, it will be a learning experience for me. I was thinking if every letter had to be written? What about those voice recordings that people do before a major surgery that carried high risks? All of these came into my mind while I was playing Lethal Enforcers 3 (Seigi no Hero 3), and kind of inspired this storyline.

Initially, I was thinking along the lines of either "Lethal Enforcers" or "Believing in Justice" as the theme, but somehow, after writing (and losing track naturally), it ended up as this. If you haven't figured it out yet, the character in this story is actually Remilia Scarlet. Totally OOC, I know. You had your warning on my story summary!