Reimu Hakurei was not the type of person you could call well-off.
Sure, the occasional stray donations kept her afloat, and she certainly was not one to reject gifts, but they were never anything of particularly high value, especially the donations. It was always just too little to have any larger impact on the Shrine Maiden's financial situation, not to mention the endless stream of guests and visitors she has to placate with offerings of sake, snacks and tea. That Magician alone already absconds with most of her pantry on a daily basis.
Reimu made a mental note to scrounge up whatever few coins ended up in the offertory box, and to see what amount she could haggle the poor grocer - Gods bless his soul - down to the next time she visited him. Also important was to bring up this whole 'eating up her entire food supply' issue to Marisa the next time she came around to visit again, though Reimu doubted she would ever be privy enough to actually listen to a word Reimu told her.
It didn't help that Reimu wasn't exactly the most business-oriented of people, and her supposedly 'thrifty' spending had more often than not led to near financial ruin for her on more than one occasion. Whenever she did happen to miraculously come across a notably large sum of money, it always mysteriously disappeared soon afterwards, in its place usually sat an expensive bottle of premium sake, or a box of the finest sweets from the Human Village.
And of course, nary a single yen would see itself being invested into bettering the Hakurei Shrine, which had more or less remained in the same sorry state it had been for the better part of two decades, the wood composing its sacred torii left to rot and dilapidate over the many years it had been exposed to the environment.
The shrine building proper, refurbished countless times before (once thanks to that rotten celestial), didn't fare much better. Every section of the shrine is was at least in some state of neglect, ranging from relatively minor to worryingly severe. These issues could've, on paper, been fixed relatively easily whilst they were still in their infancy, immediately after the many times it was rebuilt, though no one ever bothered to take action, especially not the owner and proprietor.
Still, not everything could be pinned on Reimu and her admittedly poor financial decisions. The life of a Hakurei Shrine Miko was always bound to be one of near-poverty, subsisting solely on the kindness of strangers, and when that occasionally ran dry, nothing at all. As such, The Hakurei lineage had adapted over the many years they have stood vigil over the Great Hakurei Barrier, engaging in peculiar activities to help aid their frugal lifestyle choices.
Foraging for edible plants was, as loathsome Reimu was to admit it, one of these activities that Hakurei shrine maidens were essentially forced to partake in. From her predecessor to now and almost certainly to whatever poor soul unfortunate enough to take up her post after her, living off of nature's bounty was a given. Fortunately, the verdant woods and rolling hills surrounding the Hakurei Shrine offered a vibrant assortment of edible roots, vegetables and the occasional fruit.
This, along with a fishing trip every now and again with Marisa and, on occasion, the elusive younger Komeiji sister, usually provided Reimu with more than enough food to last her throughout spring and summer. The real trouble arose during the leaner months of the year; when the ground froze solid, forest critters either retreated into their abode to hibernate through the winter, or packed up and left to migrate to greener (and warmer) grass, and when the trees lost their bountiful green leaves, precluding the growth of any new edible fruits.
Then again, that was what the offertory box was for, despite however pitiful the offerings Reimu finds made in there. Unfortunately, this was always to be expected, for despite the Hakurei Miko's honourable duty as the Human Village's go-to protector from and exterminator of youkai, very few people go out of their way to make the nearly hour-long trek from the Main Gates to the shrine, battling the elements and the occasional stray youkai.
And all of that, just to offer perhaps a couple of hundred yen to a distant shrine maiden whose supposed God, should the rumours be true, is likely not even there anymore. Essentially rendering Reimu's position as shrine maiden a moot point.
Letting loose a rather un-maidenlike yawn, Reimu attempted to heave herself out of her futon, only for a splitting headache to force her back down.
It should also probably be mentioned that Reimu was not much of a morning person.
Nor was she much of a night owl either, Reimu reminded herself as she prepared to leave the warm comfort of her futon for the second time, flopping hopelessly once more onto the bedding as her muscles refused to follow her commands, leaving Reimu to faceplant into her pillow as her arms and legs gave way.
Perhaps yesterday's foraging session had done a number on her body, it was cold out there after all. Muttering a few choice profanities under her breath, Reimu could only hope that nobody was present to bear witness to that less-than-graceful display as she dusted herself off for a third attempt.
It would seem that the third time would indeed be the charm however, as she finally managed to find the strength and willpower to propel herself out of her futon, her face flushed, heart racing and sweat beats threatening to form on her face from the light exertion. Embarrassing, but she'd been through worse.
Now standing upright, Reimu slowly stumbled her way, either unaware or uncaring that she was still in her small clothes, towards her kitchen. Arguably the most extravagant part of the shrine, the kitchen was filled to the brim with weird Kappa prototypes that Reimu had once 'gently coaxed' Nitori to 'loan' her.
Reimu hadn't even known what the intended purpose of the objects was, but they looked fancy and futuristic, but more importantly, valuable. So, she took them on hoping that they'd actually be worth something. After all, she justified to herself, it was merely a long overdue repayment for her involvement in that whole 'Mountain of Faith' incident.
Strange and incongruous as the objects seemed to be, Reimu could at least divine two things; 1: that the machines were most likely based upon outside world technologies, and 2: that meant Rinnosuke could likely decipher the meaning of and how to use the damn things.
Whatever they were, Reimu could at least attest to the fact that the new Kappa machines served as a huge improvement over the old 'set fire to sticks to heat the stove' method that had reigned supreme in the Hakurei Household for a little under two centuries now. Cooking her meals, or what passed as meals for her, with far greater ease than any previous Hakurei Shrine maiden and indeed, the entirety of Gensokyo, had ever done before.
Now, simply because Hakurei shrine maidens are all but sworn to lives of frugality, does not mean that they are not allowed to splurge every once in a while, and this is certainly something that Reimu took to heart, constantly 'splurging' perhaps a bit more than what would be traditionally expected from a lady of her delicate financial situation. Perhaps her reckless spending shall one day come back to bite Reimu in the rear, but for now, she'd spend as much money as her coin purse could hold.
Which was, now that she thought about it, not a whole lot.
Still nursing the dull, throbbing pain in her head, Reimu dumped a generous amount of cooking oil onto a skillet, one of the few pantry items that she was in no short supply of. Reimu set the greased pan upon what she has been told to be the 'burner' of the fancy new outside world-inspired stove, twisting one of the four knobs in the lower middle section to give birth to an incredible display of majestic blue fire, arching outwards to form a claw-like grip underneath the skillet, and dancing precariously upon its edge. Staring at the flame, she remained entranced by the display, her eyes trailing the occasional orange-yellow flame that breached the blue curtain to touch the rapidly heating metal.
It had always eluded Reimu just how exactly this whole system operated, and what fuel source that fed the fire led to it burning a bright azure blue, a colour never seen anywhere else by her, at least not burning naturally. Orange, yellow, and even esoteric crimson red fires she had already before seen roaring in the uncomfortably warm depths of Former Hell, and a turquoise flame she had already once witnessed trailing behind the bullets of a particularly stubborn youkai.
Sufficed to say, Reimu had never seen blue fire before unless it was being hurled towards her face at speed, which simply made Reimu, and especially Marisa on the few occasions she bothered to actually meander into the shrine building proper, eager to find out just what was powering the strange new contraption.
Was it truly the divination of outside-world technology, centuries beyond the capacity of the residents of Gensokyo? Or was it perhaps truly the brainchild of an ingenious native inventor, and Reimu had given that kappa far less credit than she had owed her?
Or maybe it was powered not by processes belonging to hard science, but rather a mythical hakkero, born from Taoist mythology— one not much more different than the miniature, pocket-sized offshoot that Marisa carries with her?
Reimu snapped out of the trance she had suddenly found herself in and refocused her attention on the rapidly warming skillet. Turning to face a rectangular metal box that easily dwarfed her in size, she opened the double doors to be greeted with what little perishables she had remaining, various edible roots, vegetables, and other fruits of yesterday's foray. Fighting off the desire to ponder on how this contraption- which in many ways was analogous to her old icebox- worked, Reimu gently balanced a plate of tofu, her most prized foodstuff, onto the counter.
Forming a closed claw grip with her left hand, and placing it upon the block of firm tofu to stabilize it, Reimu began slicing the tofu into palm-sized pieces with what passed for a kitchen knife. Whilst cutting, Reimu let her mind wonder once more towards the matters she'd have to attend to today; she was already in a considerable amount of debt to... every merchant in the Human Village, and reliance on their generosity was the only thing that had gotten her through recent months, given an unusual drought of donations, even for the Hakurei Shrine. She'd have to repay all of them at some point, Reimu knew that much, but just how and when would be a problem that'd be more likely than not to give her a few headaches in the coming weeks.
Her train of thought was only broken after noticing a sharp, but fortunately fleeting pain on the knuckle of her left hand, indicating she had let her knife hand slip just a mite too far.
Grimacing, Reimu inspected her hand for any injury, only for relief to wash over her when she realised that no open wound was visible and that, indeed, no blood had been drawn. Of all the grievances that Reimu had with her poor excuse for a cutting knife, she had to admit that the comically blunt edge came in handy in times like this.
Noticing transparent wisps of smoke beginning to rise from her skillet, Reimu hurried to slice the remaining tofu, then haphazardly tossed the pieces onto the ripping hot surface of her pan, producing a satisfying, but not too loud sizzling noise, the sign of a pan that was just the right temperature.
Satisfied with the now rapidly cooking tofu, she began putting to boil a bowl's worth of white rice, already washed thanks to the efforts of yesterday night's Reimu. Turning again towards the tofu, Reimu noticed a browning sear beginning to form on the surface, prompting her to grab a nearby bottle of soya sauce, the one sold to her by a sympathetic merchant at a great discount a couple of months back, and was coming precariously close to running dry, but it'd do for now.
Pouring in a precisely calculated amount of soy sauce, to conserve what little of the precious black liquid that remained, Reimu put the near-empty bottle aside, and reached for the comparatively more well-filled bottle of mirin that was placed near where the soy sauce bottle used to reside. Twisting the little knob once more to reduce the heat, a procedure she was still fascinated as to how it worked, Reimu tipped some mirin into the soy sauce, along with a splash of water, allowing the two to mix with the now simmering soy sauce broth, its flavours melding gently with the seared tofu.
Satisfied with her handiwork, Reimu placed a piece of cloth over the skillet and left it there to stew as she moved to attend to more menial tasks, like cleaning up the sorry state of her room and bothering to patch up the hole in the roof that leaked piecemeal whenever there was rain.
Yeah, as if.
What Reimu actually did was set herself up in the slept-in futon, lay down upon it, and let the pleasant aroma of the cooking tofu waft into her nose.
Repairs and housework could wait. After all, she had already spent all the energy she was willing to spend fulfilling a basic life necessity.
Reimu waited for around twenty or so minutes, ignoring the protests being made by her ravenous stomach, and staving off the desire to fall asleep, laying there in silent anticipation. After what Reimu assumed to be an adequate amount of time had passed, she arose from her futon and moved to secure the fruits of her labour. Turning the knob for a third and final time to turn off the flame, Reimu lifted the now very much damp piece of cloth off the skillet.
What greeted her was a beautiful stew of browned pieces of seared tofu, sitting within a well of light brown broth. The smell (and heat) hit Reimu almost immediately, consisting of a sweet yet savoury scent, alongside a waft that vaguely resembled warmed amazake, indicative of the added mirin. snatching up a pair of chopsticks, well worn from many years of use, Reimu carefully picked the pieces of tofu onto a nearby plate, making sure to let the broth drip off of the pieces of cooked tofu before moving them first.
It was simple and rustic, sure, but it was one of the few luxuries that Reimu could treat herself to without sacrificing the majority of her savings. Meat was expensive and reserved for special occasions, while vegetables and rice she already had in great abundance, perhaps too much, now that she thought about it. Meanwhile, tofu was relatively cheap, filling, versatile and kept well, coincidentally also providing a convenient source of much-needed protein to the meat-starved shrine maiden.
Most important of all, however, was that it could be used to cook a hot meal to warm one's body up on a freezing winter day, you couldn't really ask for more than that.
Setting the heaping plate aside, Reimu went to check up on the rice, only to find a sizable opening suspended mid-air, with eyes staring back at her from a dark void.
Along with a noticeable portion of her cooked rice missing.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Reimu drew in a long breath, and let out an exasperated cry at the top of her lungs,
"YUKARI!"
A voice, one all too familiar to Reimu, suddenly appeared from behind her as she whirled around to come face-to-face with the Youkai of Boundaries.
"Hm? I do believe that's no way to treat one's guests, Reimu." Yukari playfully chided, her eyes constantly drifting, darting to and fro different parts of Reimu's body.
Glancing down at herself, only now did Reimu realise that she was in a state of considerable undress. Flushed, she quickly teetered off towards a vacant room, away from prying eyes, to put on some clothes for the day.
"Aw, but you look so cute in but your sarashi and bloomers, Reimu dear!" she heard Yukari call after her, whose advice Reimu promptly ignored in favour of wearing something more presentable to the unwelcome guest that had intruded upon her (ostensibly, today had been the only day in a long while where Reimu had the entire shrine to herself for once.) private domicile.
Emerging from the impromptu changing room a moment later, Reimu now wore a uniform that had been passed down to generations of Hakurei shrine maidens. A crimson-coloured nontraditional miko dress, with white detached and shoulderless sleeves, and her hair done up in an elaborate red hair bow, laced with white frills. Topping it all off was a yellow ascot, given much the same frilly treatment as her hair bow, entwined around a white collar.
As to why exactly the sleeves were shoulderless, as to emphasize the wearer's armpits, remained a mystery to Reimu.
Her mood now considerably dampened, Reimu raised her head to glance at the interloper, who was wearing her usual frilled dress drenched in regal purple, complete with a pair of white silk elbow gloves, donning a mobcap with a curious thin red ribbon tied to the front upon her head.
And who was also eating from a bowl filled with the missing rice.
Feeling an annoyed flush already rising to her cheeks, Reimu narrowed her eyes and shot the gap youkai an accusatory gaze. "Why are you here, eating my food, and what do you want from me this time?"
"My, you certainly are energetic all of a sudden." Yukari began, dodging the question. "Far more energetic than you initially were, struggling to get out of bed and all..."
Realising that someone had indeed witnessed her pathetic display a scant hour or so before, Reimu's face erupted into an embarrassed blush, before regaining her composure to cast a cold glance at quite possibly the last person she'd want gaining new things to tease her over. "Just tell me what it is you want right now Yukari, or do I have to beat it out of you through a spell card battle?"
If Yukari was offended by the sudden (but not entirely unjustified) curtness, then her face certainly didn't show it, her emotions as unfettered as ever.
Nonetheless, Yukari put down the bowl of rice, gracefully wiping off a few loose grains that had stuck to her cheeks. "Well~," she cooed, "I was merely thinking that I should visit you personally to send my condolences to my favourite starving shrine maiden, that's all." Yukari hid her face behind that insufferably ornate hand fan of hers, and despite that, Reimu could clearly see Yukari making a face of mock despair.
"Very funny." Reimu deadpanned, "but I'm doing just fine for myself, and certainly not 'starving' in any sense of the word."
"Is that so? Then do pray tell, just how many more lies you intend on telling me."
Yukari's infuriatingly smug grin had faded, instead morphing into something of a more neutral expression. Confused, Reimu just stared at her, awaiting Yukari to continue speaking her piece.
It never came, however, for Yukari instead simply opened up one of her gaps, allowing a rolled-up newspaper to tumble through onto the soft tatami floor.
Crouching down to pick it up, Reimu heard Yukari pipe up once more, with none of her previously playful attitude present in her voice. "If you ever find yourself in serious need of sustenance, then simply seek out either Ran or I for assistance." As she continued, Reimu could hear Yukari's smug intonation return once more. "After all, it'd be a shame for the mighty Hakurei Miko to drop dead from simple starvation."
Unnerved by Yukari's vague accusations, Reimu unfurled the newspaper and narrowed her eyes at the wall of text, hoping that it would provide something in the form of an answer. "You're seriously weirding me out, old woman, just what's gotten into you late-"
Reimu's words died in her mouth when she read the newspaper's title, her face blanching.
THE BUNBUNMARU NEWSGensokyo's Oldest Newspaper
Year 183, Sunday Special Edition
Malnourished Miko Relishing in Rabbit Food?
As our subscribers already know, the Bunbunmaru prides itself on only the most up-to-date and truthful reporting. Going where no other tengu dares fly, bringing back news whilst spitting in the face of death, and spreading general knowledge and consciousness of current events throughout Gensokyo.
This is why, when faced with a scoop as huge as this, our very own intrepid reporter, owner and proprietor was on the case as soon as she caught wind of it (quite literally, in this case!).
Yesterday afternoon, our reporter captured an image of Reimu Hakurei (pictured below), the famed Shrine Maiden of Paradise, sweeping the forest floor for edible roots and vegetables! Indeed, the resident youkai exterminator was reduced to kneeling in dust and dirt, just to hopefully survive through another chilly winter week.
For the observant reader, this obviously raises the question: If someone as powerful and well-respected as the Hakurei Miko is left scrounging for scraps, what might this say for the rest of Human society? And does this perhaps lend credence to the idea of the Tengu Nation's inherent superiority?
Find out all of this, and more in this edition of The Bunbunmaru! Simply flip to page-
Peeling her eyes off of the article, Reimu's eyes darted towards Yukari, scanning her face for any sign that would betray the fact that this was all a prank, one big joke that was being played on her.
She did so in vain, however, for Yukari remained as stoic as ever, letting not a trace of emotion break onto her face.
Stunned, Reimu was unable to spit out anything more than the occasional sputter, all she did was stand there, mortified, and stared blankly at the newspaper, a mixture of confusion and horror smeared onto her face.
And then, anger.
A fit of anger so evident, so raw and born from anguish, that even Yukari considered cringing away. As if to shield herself from the shrine maiden's inevitable righteous fury.
Scrunching up the newspaper into a ball, a heavy silence fell between the two, lasting for a good minute or before Yukari finally spoke up. "You see, the news has already spread rather quickly, I have personally seen to that." Yukari folded her hand fan up, lowering it to hold it in front of her waist. "As such, it would do you well for you to clean up your act before anyone begins to question the Hakurei Miko's capacit-"
Yukari was cut off by Reimu suddenly storming off into the changing room in the middle of her recommendation. Yukari couldn't see much of Reimu's face, given that her back was turned to Yukari, but she could still ascertain Reimu's palpable displeasure by paying attention to the far heavier than usual footsteps, stomping in anger.
A moment later, Reimu returned. This time, however, her yin-yang orbs hovered in orbit of her, with stacks of ofuda and her trusty gohei in hand.
Her face contorted in muted rage, Reimu finally spoke again, this time in a far more cold and distant tone. "I'll be gone for a while, and I expect that my shrine will be looked after and be roughly the same once I return, understand?"
Now, Yukari knew that an immature and fledgling youngling such as Reimu was in no position to be making demands of her; a thousand-year-old youkai. Despite this, however, Yukari knew all too well what the young shrine maiden could be like once she was truly dedicated to caving someone's face in, and so elected not to intervene in Reimu's roaring rampage of revenge. Instead, all Yukari did was solemnly nod in agreement to Reimu's sudden diktat.
"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me."
Reimu marched towards the exit, and towards the shrine veranda, brushing Yukari aside. Not entirely forcefully, for she was not the (main) target of Reimu's tranquil fury, but with just enough force to establish that, in case Yukari did decide to intervene, Reimu wouldn't hesitate to blast her out of the sky.
As Reimu stormed towards the outside, however, Yukari felt a need to warn her about the freezing temperatures outside bubbling up inside of her. So, gathering together all the acting talent she had accumulated over the many millennia she had spent feigning innocence and/or ignorance, Yukari put on the most faux-sweet tone she could muster and called out after the raging miko.
"Reimu dear, you would not want to die from the cold, would you? Make sure not to forget to put on a nice, warm scarf before you head out, now!"
There, that will get the message across— without having to sound too overly worried about Reimu's health and wellbeing, that is.
Yukari watched as Reimu turned her head back around to stare daggers at her, slammed the shoji doors open, and then crouched down to slip on a pair of cross-laced leather boots, far removed from her usual distinctive black Mary Janes. Glancing behind her to look at Yukari one last time, her breath condensing into vapour in the icy air, Reimu took off into the sky, off towards where Yukari assumed would be Youkai Mountain.
After Reimu flew into the clouds, far past the horizon, she turned back towards the shrine, taking a seat next to an uncovered kotatsu. Noticing a plate of cooked tofu, undoubtedly what was to be Reimu's breakfast this morning sitting on a nearby counter, she balanced it onto the kotatsu table, grappling a pair of chopsticks to take a small bite.
It was soft and springy, tasting overwhelmingly of savoury and sweet soy—was that alcohol she detected? Regardless, it possessed none of the subdued flavours and refined elegance that her beloved shikigami had always presented their meals with. In spite, however, Yukari admitted that it had a simple charm to it, a meal meant to fill one's stomach, not to impress. Perhaps she would have to ask Reimu upon her return for the recipe so that Ran could replicate it for their evening dinners with Chen.
Speaking of Reimu, Yukari still had a duty to uphold. So there she sat, though very reluctantly, awaiting Reimu's return, remaining so in silent vigil.
And so she waited.
And waited,
and waited.
...
...
...
The tofu was getting cold.
A Few Hours Earlier...Marisa Kirisame was also not the type of person you'd call well off.
But hey, she was still a helluva lot better off than Reimu, that's for sure!
Hm.
Now that she thought about it, that fact was of scarce comfort.
Shrugging it off, Marisa rolled out of her bed with all the grace reserved for a Master Spark— and of course, she never made the bed in the morning. She still wore her distinctive white puffy shirt, enclosed within a black vest studded by golden buttons, apparently having never bothered to change before nodding off yesterday. The nominally brilliant white apron was stained by soots and burns and gods-know-what-else from last night's, and indeed nearly a decade's worth of, experiments.
Really, the state of Marisa's clothing could quite succinctly be applied to a description of her entire house, or small hamlet cottage being a more apt term for it. A pervasive dust comprised of gods-know-what integrated itself with the air inside the cottage, whatever it was, it certainly wasn't the dust made up of dead skin and lint you sometimes see dancing in sun rays. Cobwebs and all manners of animals lived within the damp dark corners of her rooms, some residing on the roof, while others preferred the bottom, lower corners.
It is also, to an outside observer, perhaps the most claustrophobic living arrangement possibly devised by a sapient being— with human-sized stacks of unused spellbooks, potions and other magical trinkets forming faux maze walls, obscuring one's vision to what is strictly in front and off towards to the side of their person. How an ostensibly normal human could possibly live like this, and not go insane from the dysfunction almost immediately, is a headscratcher, to say the least.
Then again, Marisa was most certainly no normal human. She was a student and practitioner of the dark arts, possessing skills and abilities that allowed her to go toe-to-toe with even the most powerful of youkai, inspiring awe and fear in her erstwhile (could she really still call herself one of them?) fellow villagers.
She'd also (probably) accidentally kill herself by attempting even the most minor of cleanups, whether from some stray lethal potion being knocked off the shelves or from falling victim to the myriad of other bodily harms that awaited her in this house. So, there was that.
Trotting down the staircase, each step released dissonant creaks that reverberated throughout the thin, flimsy walls. Marisa walked up to a tilting clothes hook, and snatched up her wide-brimmed witch hat, fitting it onto her head with a slight tilt, as she always has done. Perhaps the only clean part of her clothing, her hat was Marisa's pride and joy - right beside her mini-hakkero. Without it, not only did she feel as if a vital part of her were missing, but it also made her practically unrecognizable (well, maybe not as much as Reimu without her hair bow), just another golden-haired loner amongst a veritable sea of them.
A new white bow would need to be found for it unfortunately, since the last one had somehow loosened itself from her hat, and took off into the wind whilst Marisa was out flying sometime yesterday.
Carefully tiptoeing past a particularly tall and unstable stack of grimoires, Marisa began making a mental list of the things she'd also need to get done before the day was out. First, she'd need to hand back a recipe book that Alice was very insistent that Marisa returned to her, this time before the Ordinary Magician's untimely demise. That's going to be a pain to do since said book is likely hidden within one of the multiple other untidy stacks, similar to the one Marisa had just maneuvered past.
Second off, she would have to find a replacement for the lost spellbook. The Scarlet Devil Mansion and its vast, grand library were off the table, since Marisa was really not looking forward to fighting Patchy for the second time this week, likely just for some ancient cryptic text that would take Marisa weeks if not months to decipher.
Then again, there was always the option of visiting Suzunaan. Though, Marisa wasn't exactly excited about the prospect of having to explain to Kosuzu that, yes, the precious books that she'd lent Marisa a couple of months ago had, indeed, been burnt to crisps in a particularly fiery explosion (completely on accident, she swears!), and were now very much un-returnable.
And then finally last, but not least,
She'd need to find a way to spend some time with Reimu again.
Sure, Marisa had already hung out with her every day for the past week or so, but it had been different then; surrounded by friends and associates who, though their presence wasn't all that annoying, still got in the way of Reimu and her having some true offtime for just the two of them— sipping green tea on the shrine veranda, eyes closed as they feel a gentle breeze brush their legs, seeing if the two of them could tinker with those weird kappa machines without blowing themselves up halfway to Hakugyokurou.
Ah, that'd be the life. Honestly, Marisa was half-tempted to just mosey on over to the Hakurei Shrine right here, right now to demand Reimu that she let Marisa move in with her.
Obviously, Marisa would never actually do something like this - she'd rather not leave with nothing but a broken nose and a miffed shrine maiden to show for it- not anytime in the near future, that is. 'Sides, the Forest of Magic was her home, whether she liked it or not; filled to the brim with weird and esoteric flora, fauna and anomalies that Marisa would never be able to fully catalogue nor comprehend within her limited human lifespan.
So, setting those thoughts aside, Marisa began seeing to her first task, scrounging through the delicate pile of half-read grimoires, when she heard a loud 'thump!' on her door. It wasn't a knock, that was for sure; it sounded far too shallow and lacked the distinctive repeated rapping of knuckles on wood that would usually follow if no response was given, which was Marisa's default greeting, given her busy scheduling.
In fact, it almost sounded as if something had been thrown at her door, possibly a rock from a mischievous fairy or whatnot.
Placing a hastily scrounged-up book as gently as she could back down onto the counter, so as to not disturb quite possibly the crappiest game of rock balancing she had ever played, Marisa made her way towards the front door, a look of annoyance strewn across her face from having to be disturbed in the middle of her processions.
What awaited Marisa however, was something she thought she'd never see in her lifetime.
A rolled-up newspaper, likely delivered as part of some subscription service, lay there on Marisa's doorstep.
The problem was, Marisa never recalled subscribing to a paper— too much work, she reckoned, why read some mass-produced garbage when you could be immersing yourself with the knowledge found in an ancient, potentially life-changing (in more ways than one) tome?
It's nothing but a waste of time and money, and Marisa was more than happy to stay inside her cottage - willfully ignorant about the going-ons of the outside, her face firmly planted within yellowed pages - if she could avoid forking over a few hundred yen a week for something she'll inevitably come to regret purchasing. Also, the only folk around publishing newspapers were the Tengu, and after one too many bad encounters with them, Marisa didn't exactly feel the greatest need to provide their ilk with the means to improve themselves— as petty as it sounded, it all added up in the end.
Well, it sounded reasonable to Marisa at least, confident that she'd gotten this whole 'mathematics' thing down pat.
Eyeing the roll of newspaper with suspicion, Marisa shuffled towards it with a deliberate movement in her steps to pick it up. Holding onto the paper as it were a dirty, wet rag, Marisa unfolded the roll and began to read.
And oh boy, was Marisa glad that she read it.
Sure, it was filled with the type of poisonous, propaganda-filled prose that tengu publishers liked to inject within their works, but so long as one could glaze their eyes over the obvious bias, the Bunbunmaru proved to be a surprisingly accurate source on the happenings of wider Gensokyo. In addition to that, this edition in particular provided Marisa with the kindling to (hopefully) knock her third problem of the day out of the park.
"Malnourished Miko Relishing in Rabbit Food?" it posited, and Marisa knew just what to do with this information.
Stifling a chuckle, as if to not offend the exactly zero people in her immediate vicinity (well, perhaps aside from a few stray youkai), Marisa abandoned her current projects and set off deeper into the Forest as fast as her legs could carry her, the newspaper in hand. Each one of her steps carved an indent into the snow, and the only thing on her mind was an intent to capitalize on the shrine maiden's plight as much as she could.
A thousand other thoughts also raced through Marisa's head at the same time, with her two main concerns as thus; Number one, about the amount of favour she'd curry with Reimu if the plan she was concocting were to all go swimmingly. Number two, coercing recruiting the right people for the job.
And who better else to ask, than the Seven-Coloured Puppeteer?
Slipping away (hopefully, she'd like to believe) unseen, a young fairy treks through the snow-covered floor of the Forest of Magic, icicle wings flapping in the equally icy wind.
Coming to a stop up near a seemingly innocent hollowed-out husk of a tree, the fairy began relaying her deeds to the remains of said tree, explaining how she had successfully delivered all the newspapers as promised, and how she had just finished sending the last one. Once finished speaking, the tiny fairy simply stood there, astutely waiting for a response.
In lieu of one however, the fairy merely heard a quiet 'thump' behind her as the reward she was promised was presumably transported through one of those weird holes in the air.
It was an elaborate wooden box, with intricate engravings carved into its surface, indicative it was of handmade, artisanal craft. Inside there was a note, congratulating the fairy on a job well done, and of how proud the mysterious benefactor was of her.
Of course, that was what the fairy thought it said. She tried her hardest to make out and piece together the individual letters into legible words but ended up drawing blanks regardless. Evidently, not enough attention was being given when attending Miss Kamishirasawa's lessons.
Lifting up the note and tossing it carelessly behind her, as if were some random piece of debris, the fairy was greeted with a smörgåsbord of different candies and sweets. All of them likely originated from the finest sweet shops in the Human Village, and perhaps even beyond.
As tempting it was to keep the treasure trove of sugar all to her own, the little fairy thought better of herself. So, with great effort, she heaved the box of sweets along with her towards the Misty Lake, hoping to curry some favour with the more powerful fairies that resided there.
Soon after the little fairy trotted out of viewing distance, a tall figure, dressed in elegant purple clothing, slipped out from behind one of the ageless trunks, and walked over to pick up the discarded note.
All it said was; "Good Job", in an admittedly misguided attempt in order to display gratitude towards a being whose kind were not exactly known for their literacy.
Casting aside the shadows of self-doubt forming within her mind, Yukari Yakumo grinned slightly to herself.
Next stop, Hakurei Shrine.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Alice! Hey yo, Alice!"
Alice Margatroid did not appreciate being woken up - so abruptly she might add - this early in the morning.
Then again, no one truly did, and any man who attempts to argue otherwise is either a fool or a cheat.
Rubbing her groggy eyes perhaps a bit harder than what should've been necessary, Alice willed a group of nearby Shanghai dolls, who had just finished cleaning her room, to bring over something other than the small clothes she was currently wearing. Anything presentable would do, the dolls were told, though she knew that it would be the same blue-white-frilled dress with a white caplet that Alice frequented every single day.
Tying up the last of the many laces on her boots, and planting a red, frilled hairband onto her head, Alice directed the dolls to tidy up the sorry state of her bed and moved to intercept the troublesome Magician before she inevitably began trying to force herself into Alice's humble abode.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Alllliiiiice, ya in there?" Came yet another cry.
"I'm coming, Marisa, calm yourself," responded Alice, an annoyed tone apparent in her voice. "And stop banging on that godsdamned door, you're going to knock its hinges off!"
"Oooookaaaaaayyyyy, but ya best be quick, 'else I might jus-"
Marisa shut up when the door in front of her swung open, nearly hitting her square in the face, and revealing an unexpectedly dishevelled and understandably angry Alice.
Now, she may have not possessed the usual assembly of mean-looking dolls arranged in combat formation that Marisa frequently faced down when 'loaning' a book, but one good look at Alice's face could tell her that - were it not for her having just woken up - the Dollmaker would be more than willing to kick her ass at the slightest inference of a slight, with or without her only means of defence.
As such Marisa, in a very un-Marisa-like move, thought it best to think first before she spoke.
"Hey, Alice! Uh, listen, I've got a problem that needs... resolving, so could ya lend a hand to 'lil 'ol me?"
Alice merely narrowed her eyes in response and proceeded to ignore the request. "Where's that textbook that I lent you, Marisa?"
"Oh, uhh, y'know."
"No, I really don't."
Marisa unhinged her jaw to voice an objection, but quickly snapped it closed and let her face puff up into a pout. Letting loose a beleaguered sigh, she acceded to Alice's demands. "Look, I'll get it back to you as soon as possible, okay?"
"Then come back here with it, and then we'll talk."
Alice moved to shut the door, before realising that Marisa had jammed her foot in the way.
"Gods Marisa, I just want my tome back, is it really that hard to understand?"
Marisa's face had morphed into one of annoyance, not much unlike the one Alice was wearing. "That there's the problem, Alice, I'm still searching for it!"
"Then search harder!"
Marisa was now becoming visibly irritated, no doubt due to Alice's uncooperative nature. "Just friggin' listen okay? I've got some explaining to do, and your interjections ain't helpin'!"
"...Okay."
With Alice's tacit approval gained, Marisa calmed herself and began wearing a sharp grin. "Now, I'll return ya precious thing right back to ya the moment I get the chance, but for now, I need you do something for me."
"And what would that be?" Alice inquired, her eyes once again narrowing in suspicion.
Marisa's grin only grew wider, and in response to Alice's question, she plopped the newspaper she was carrying with her onto the soft entry mat.
Alice bent over to pick it up, and whilst doing that, she heard Marisa speak up.
"How would ya like ta' cook with me?"