An excerpt from the Grimoire of Marisa, 2nd Edition. Published Year 187, 3rd of Satsuki, by Suzunaan Publishing House.

Marisa's Marvelous Mushroom Remedy!

Note from the Author:

I know, I know. You're probably already asking, what the hell's a food recipe doing here? Well, how about ya just sit down and listen up for a hot minute, 'cause who knows, perhaps this lil' recipe'll do just as much good for you as it did for me.

Now, let's get started, shall we?

Ingredients:

1 kilogramme of mushrooms. Preferably foraged, but you do you. (just avoid the red-capped ones!)
Around a 1/2 cup of cooking oil. Any'll do, just make sure it's for cooking.
1 large onion, diced.
4 small tomatoes, sliced, diced and seeded.
A spoon's worth of thickener. Don't matter what kind, wheat or barley flour will do.
1/4 stick of butter.
3 cloves of garlic, minced.
Half a litre, or two cups of stock. Mushroom if possible, but any generic stock also suffices.
Thyme, rosemary and parsley. If you got some.
ground salt & peppercorns.
(Optional) A few slices of bread. Again, if ya got any.

Preparation:

Prep-time: 1 Hour

Step 1: Wash your mushrooms, rinsing off all the dirt and grime and other nasty stuff, and trim off the tough stems (don't wanna eat them!). Slice 'em to about the thickness of your lil' pinkie.

Step 2: Heat up your skillet to medium-high, and dump half your 1/2 cup of oil into the pan. Throw in your onions and garlic, seasoning with salt & pepper, and cook whilst stirring, until the onion's softened and browned. All this should last around 10 minutes or so, so after then, remove your onions onto a seperate plate and set it aside.

Step 3: Add the rest of your cooking oil into the pan, and turn up the heat to high. Add in your mushrooms, season 'em lightly and stir-fry 'til lightly coloured, for about 3 minutes. Lower the heat to medium, add in your aromatics (if ya got them) and your tomatoes. Stir well, and cook for a minute more, seasoning with salt & pepper. Toss in your thickener of choice, stir to incorporate and cook for 1 minute more. Stir in your previously cooked onions.

Step 4: Add in half of your stock, and stir until thickened, around 1 minute. Gradually add in the remaining stock and cook for two more minutes. Sauce oughta have a thin gravy-like consistency; adjust with more thickener and seasoning as necessary.

Step 5: Now this bit's real important, make sure to concentrate your mind, and mutter the name of the person who ya cooking for. Trust me, makes all the difference in the world.

Step 6: Serve it up in a nice, warm bowl, and you're done!

And there ya have it, my signature dish when I'm feeling down, cold, or anything in between! Serves as a fantastic lady killer as well; that, I can personally attest to.

Alice was not having the greatest of days.

First off, she had been - rudely - awoken at, what was to her, the most unsociable hours of the day. Her clothes, put on in a hurry and clearly chosen from the unwashed pile, did not exactly present her figure in the best of lights, with the various creases and folds obtained from years of use still readily apparent to the casual observer. Underneath all of that, there were cuts and bruises from her own clumsy manoeuvres dispersed across her arms and legs.

The outside was colder than the biting winds of Hakugyokurou, which only made Alice crave the temperate warmth of her small cottage more. The cold was already starting to have its effect on her body, with the extremities already threatening to freeze up. At least the snow had recently begun to subside, thawing in anticipation of the upcoming warmer seasons.

All of this, and not even mentioning her hair, which could be more accurately described as a tangled mess of a wild berry bush— complete with blonde thistles sticking out of her disaster in hairstyling.

Worst yet; the entire reason she was here outside in the first place, and not inside her warm and cosy cottage, was because she was 'convinced' to assist Marisa in her inane plot to garner favour with Reimu.

Alice had to stop herself from chuckling at just how ironic this entire situation was. Here she was, with one of her only friends in tow, scavenging for food in order to feed yet another one of her friends -well, an associate would be more apt - in response to said associate doing the exact same thing a scant few days ago.

Oh, and her book was still 'missing'. Great.

Heaving a dry sigh, Alice turned towards Marisa, who was perhaps currently the most focused that Alice had ever seen Marisa be in her entire life. In both their arms were foraging baskets containing motley assortments of wild mushrooms, all of them (hopefully) edible, and all for a stew that Marisa had (purportedly) conjured up in her head whilst on her way to Alice's house.

Could you believe that Marisa wanted to include, once this whole terrible mess was over, of course, this theoretical recipe in the next edition of her blasted grimoire?

Tossing yet another mushroom into her wicker-hewn basket - a good, strong basket that had served her well over the decades - Alice scanned her immediate surroundings for any nearby pickings, only to find the ground distinctly devoid of any remaining mushrooms.

Now, she absolutely could have soldiered on, wandering further and further into the depths of the Forest of Magic. Although suddenly becoming acutely aware of her lack of defensive measures against any stray youkai, combined with, quite frankly, a lack of motivation to go on, Alice thought better of it and sought after Marisa for further guidance.

It didn't take long for Alice to stumble upon the object of interest, who was still crouched, unusually concentrated on sectioning out the edible from inedible from a group of foraged mushrooms.

"Gensokyo to Marisa, are you there?"

That had gotten her attention, as Marisa whipped around to face Alice, ears perked up and an embarrassed flush forming from being caught unaware. "Oh, hey Alice! Whatcha up to?"

Alice's expression softened, and she felt a small smile forming on her face. Marisa may be an insufferable lout at times (okay, most of the time), but whenever she actually put her mind to something and became truly dedicated to a task, she really let it show. Alice considered it all to be rather adorable in its own weird, convoluted sort of way.

For what it's worth, it at least reminds Alice of why she ever bothered to interact - let alone form a somewhat tenuous friendship - with her kleptomaniacal human neighbour to begin with.

"Not much, Mari, I'm just here to tell you that my basket's full."

Still half-concentrated on sorting the pile of wild mushrooms, Marisa gave an affirmative nod in acknowledgement.

Before realising what Alice had just called her.

With a grin akin to a Chesire cat, Marisa dropped what she was doing, and turned her full attention towards Alice, who was still clueless as to what she had done to warrant her wrath this time around.

"Well now, ain't you happy all of a sudden, Alliiii~."

Confusion wracked Alice's face for a split second, before finally realising the implications of calling her friend "Mari". Feeling a strange warmth rapidly ascending up her neck, before settling on her cheeks, Alice covered her now scarlet-coated face with her hands, if only to shield herself from bearing witness to Marisa's rapidly widening grin.

"Sooooo, does this mean I'm forgiven for the book, or-"

"Shut up! Just, shut it, okay?" Came a belated cry, from a very much humiliated Alice.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry 'kay? I didn't mean nothin' by it!"

However much Marisa protested her (supposed) innocence, it didn't seem to convince the now incensed Alice, who stomped off back towards her home in a rage. "Pick your own damned mushrooms, Marisa!" Of whom also managed to hear Alice mutter something under her breath soon after. "Gods, the moment I try to be nice towards you..."

A rare sense of guilt overcame her, and Marisa raced over to cut off Alice, picking up both baskets filled with this afternoon's spoils in tow. "Look, Alice, I am actually real sorry! Couldn't ya just forgive me just this once, pretty please?"

Alice stopped in her tracks and took her hands off her face. Success! Marisa thought to herself.

Before Alice squatted down to pick up a piece of roadside gravel, which she promptly hurled at Marisa's face.

It didn't take much effort to dodge it - Marisa's dodged worse - but it was the glare that Alice gave her afterwards that really did it in, informing Marisa that, if were not for the fact that she was currently without her dolls, the two of would've already long since begun flinging magic bullets and what-not at each other.

Turning to face her would-be-assaulter, Marisa slowly made her way towards Alice, making sure to remain aware of any more opportunistic stray pieces of rock being thrown at speed towards her. It didn't last for all too long before she was forced to stop in her tracks, as Alice suddenly began approaching Marisa as well, her emotions seemingly subsided.

Though her expression was still clearly one of hurt, Marisa nonetheless considered it a step, however small, in the right direction. Before she could open her mouth to voice one of her many already memorized apologies, however, Alice managed to beat her to the punch.

"If you've ever wondered why I tend to act cold towards you, Marisa." Alice began, a slight tremble underlining her words. "This is precisely the reason why."

The accusation hit Marisa hard, whose eyes suddenly found the ground very enticing. "Yeah, I know, I understand ya Alice."

"I'm just... so tired, Marisa. You wake me up well before my biological clock did, and then you all but force me to participate in this little scheme of yours in the freezing cold! I'm not going to claim that you should also be asleep at this time, just, can't you be considerate about other people's schedules for once?"

Marisa said nothing, determining her best course of action was to stay silent.

"Not to mention the fact that I'm still a sleepy, bed-hair-ridden mess, who's currently coated in all the unpleasantries that nature has to offer! And don't you understand that your apologies mean nothing if you're never going to actually change something about yourself? I mean, gods, Marisa, it's starting to feel like we have an argument like this every week now!"

Alice's face was aflush a fiery crimson colour, half from anger, the other from sheer exertion. Bringing her rant to a close, she saw Marisa rapidly approach her and became expectant of a response, hopefully, a heartfelt apology for once.

"Well? Do you have anything to say-"

In lieu of an apology, a doubling-down, or Alice's favourite; a convenient excuse for her lousy actions, Marisa simply grappled Alice and dragged her into a deep hug. The two stood like that for a good minute, simply content to warm each other up in the winter cold.

"It, uh, really does feel like that sometimes, don't it?" Marisa finally admitted, noticing her puffy shoulder sleeves becoming increasingly damp. "I don't really know how exactly I can..." Marisa paused for a second. "...express my remorse in a way t' ya that sounds somewhat half-way genuine, but I hope ya understand that I'm trying my best 'ere, okay?"

Marisa heard the source of her wettened shoulder stifle a small sniffle, which prompted her to give a strong, hearty pat on the back in response.

"Look, I know I ain't exactly been the best friend, so if ya ever find me too insufferable, don't be 'fraid to let it all out on me, got it?" Marisa chuckled to herself. "Gods know that I can take a scolding, heh."

Alice raised her face, slowly, to meet Marisa's gaze. It was an awful thing, her face, all puffed up and red around her yet-to-dry eyes; honestly, it was kind of ugly if Marisa had to admit, though it certainly provided a nice juxtaposition to the Puppeteer's usual unamused and quiet expression. Most of all, however, Marisa found it to be endearingly dopey.

In the moment, however, the two of them noticed that they had been staring holes into each other's eyes the entire time. Alice quickly zoomed her pair away from the impromptu staring contest, her entire face flushing a shade of red so deep, that Marisa thought it impossible to do so (perhaps youkai are just different in that way?). To her credit, Marisa did the exact opposite and doubled down; beaming a radiant smile at Alice all the while.

"So, guessin' this is me finally forgiven, right?"

Alice pondered the question for a second. "...I'll still need that spellbook back, though."

Now it was Marisa's turn to act indignant, making a face of faux despair. "Aahhhh... Woe is me, 'spose I got no other choice, then..."

"Heh, you know, you can be quite the child at times."

"Says you! 'Sides, it's called 'acting', 'sis."

"Well then if I must admit; it was, frankly, quite terrible."

"Shaddup! As if you could do any better..."

Alice giggled, bathing in the glory of her newly-acquired victory, and began squeezing the pouting magician even tighter. In contrast, Marisa was now hampering to escape Alice's tightening hug, her joints protesting the sudden pressure being applied to them.

"Ack! Alright, alright, I get it!" Marisa cried out, face contorted in pain. "Could ya let me go already? I know it sounds kinda scummy, but this is really startin' to hurt!"

Grinning triumphantly, Alice loosened her vice-like grip on Marisa, who proceeded to gracelessly collapse onto the snow-covered ground, gasping for air.

"Damn youkai... seems like I need ta' stop underestimatin' your strength, huh? Argh..."

Alice merely crouched down and drew her index and thumb to flick Marisa's forehead, who let out a yelp in surprise. "Was that yet another insult I heard, Little Miss Magician?"

"Ah, uh, no! No, no it weren't, ehehe..." Marisa whimpered, gently massaging the afflicted area on her head.

"Good. Now, let's head back to put these mushrooms to use, shall we?" Alice offered Marisa her hand, faded scars scattered around her knuckles and fingertips. Marisa raised her own to take it, similarly scarred and calloused from gods-know how many experiments.

Alice noticed this near-instantly, though it was Marisa who commented on it first. "Y'know, we're kinda like kindred spirits, if ya really stop t' think about it."

Furrowing her brow in confusion, Alice cast her doubts on Marisa's assessment. "I know we're friends and all, but I don't think our interests are that similar."

"No, really, think about it! We're both massive nerds, hyper-fixated on a specific craft; Ya like dolls, and I like blowin' stuff up!" Marisa excitedly explained.

She could've stopped Marisa's aside at any time, but Alice opted instead to just listen intently to what her friend had to say.

"You and I, we like t' pretend we're real smart folk, right? But when get down to it, we're both just massive dolts who just so happen to have powerful attacks and spells that neither of us should reasonably be trusted with!"

"Call yourself a dolt all you like, but I like to think that I'm far more responsible than you are when it comes to controlling one's abilities."

"That's nonsense! I'm real careful with my powers!"

"Master Spark."

"Okay, okay, 'haps not that careful, but that's 'sides the point. I sure as hell know that, if it were up t' me, I wouldn't trust you with those drilled-up dolls of yours for a second!"

Alice should have been offended by Marisa's assertion, and indeed felt a slight indignation bubble up inside of her, but instead found herself smiling warmly yet again at Marisa's enthusiastic ramblings. Lifting up their hands so that both could see clearly the scars littered around, Alice made her own observations. "Well then, I suppose our hands are evidence of this 'kindred spiritship', correct?"

Marisa returned Alice's smile with one of her own. "Yeah, I 'spose so."

Both now back on their own two feet, the pair made their way back toward Marisa's cottage, carrying mellowed smiles—and baskets filled to the brim with wild mushrooms— all the way back.

Soaring through greyed-out skies, high above the clouds; a lone red figure carves her own path towards Youkai Mountain.

Flying at an altitude wholly unsuited to those not jammed inside a pressurised metal tube, the figure's body shudders at every stray occasional gust, each one planting the chill of winter air firmly within her bones.

If the figure were anyone - youkai or not - with even half a mind for self-preservation, they would have already tapered off, whatever was driving them to pursue such a foolish act instead of being overridden by their body's innate aversion towards hypothermia.

However, for a certain human Miko; the desire for revenge raging inside of her far outweighed any primal impulse for comfort, keeping her body feeling well-warmed in spite of the chilled air, and the frost that was beginning to form on the edges of her clothes.

Reimu peered downwards in an attempt to take in the beauty of Gensokyo, in all its glory, below her. Unfortunately, all she was greeted with was the sight of greyish-white clouds of an indeterminable shape; a depressing sight, if there were any.

Denied her view of the place she called home, and of which she was sworn to protect, Reimu grew ever more resentful, then allowing that resentment to bubble over into a melancholic fury, directed solely at the dammable reporter.

It was quite the silly, inconsequential thing to get all worked up over, yes; After all, even Reimu, her judgement clouded by an unquenchable thirst to cave a deserving crow's head in, could hardly find a reason to blame that blasted tengu for the shoddy weather she was currently experiencing. Emotions tend to care little for such niceties such as 'sound reasoning' however, so in its stead, anger took the lead.

She could see it now, though the thick fog obscured her vision to barely a building's length in front of her, the unnaturally sharp cut-off that marked the boundary between the Mountain and the rest of Gensokyo was unmistakable. A curious thing it was, to Reimu; almost certainly not a landmass not shaped and moulded by nature over many millennia, but instead the work of a god, whose very word - so long as they possessed an adequate amount of faith among their followers - could will the very earth to form whatever they pleased.

It was disgusting. An artificial pox-shaped scar on the otherwise flat, verdant fields of the Land of Illusions.

Ridding her mind of the unusually dark thoughts that had taken shape, she turned them towards more mundane ponderings; such as those of nearby Moriya Shrine, and of the status of its (relatively) newly inaugurated shrine maiden. Thinking back on it, Reimu hadn't been seeing Sanae much recently, even the short visits she would occasionally pay had become less and less common, only for them to completely cease sometime this winter season.

Perhaps Kanako, spineless snake (heh.) that she was, had entrapped the poor new-blooded miko in yet another conspiracy, one that Reimu did not look forward to resolving anytime soon.

Returning to her present obligations, Reimu refocused her gaze to decide on her next course of action. Obviously, she knew that flying straight into Tengu Village was a death sentence; the experience of the wolf tengu patrols may vary wildly between individuals, but all had excellent hearing, and would no doubt notice her before even coming into viewing distance. So, spotting a convenient outcropping of rock on a nearby ridge, the floating Miko set her feet onto the solid ground once more.

Fearing the region she had just landed in was likely to be a grey zone, an area straddling the line that demarcated the borders between Moriya Shrine and the Tengus, Reimu stuck to the shadows, hoping to use the deafening roar of the perilous mountain wind and thick fog to her advantage.

It was never meant to last however, for Reimu had - through lack of knowledge and experience - made the rather unwise decision to walk in a direction downstream to where the wind was blowing, thus resulting in her presence being carried far and wide to be detected by anyone ahead of her. As fate, ever uncaring and impartial, would have it, Reimu's distinct scent had hitched a ride onto a particularly violent gust of wind, travelling all the way into the nose of a wolf tengu already far too familiar with the aroma of subtle unwashedness and cheap sake.

Momiji Inubashiri arched her head upwards, trying to discern the origin of the scent, and followed a perilously steep and narrow trail to intercept the potential intruder.

Hearing rapid footsteps up ahead of her, Reimu knew that her cover was blown, and began frantically sprinting in the opposite direction. Now, Reimu was not afraid of a fight per se, but instead wary of her actions being discovered, and she much rather preferred slamming her yin-yang orb into a very much unaware Shameimaru. It would make her inevitable revenge all the sweeter, after all.

Despite her ability to defy gravity, Reimu's body - her brain in particular - still vehemently protested running across such a narrow and untrodden road; tapping into a primitive, innate fear for one's continued existence. Shaking off her unsteady nerves as best she could, Reimu ran unsteadily as fast as adrenaline could push her legs, attempting to evade the wrath (likely more akin to a scolding, now that she thought about it) of the only wolf tengu whom Reimu knew was daring enough to tread this far into Moriya Shrine territory.

A sudden flash of light zooming past her, however, indicative of the gloves now very much coming off, soon convinced Reimu to cease her admittedly futile endeavour.

Stopping in her tracks and turning around to face her pursuer, face flushed and fighting for gasps of air in the thin alpine atmosphere, Reimu came face to face with a very much unamused and comparatively unwinded Momiji.

Momiji spoke up first, her tone as stilted and professional as ever. "Would you mind telling me what business you have here, Miss Hakurei?"

Grasping her gohei tighter to the point of her knuckles going white, and bringing her ofuda to bear, Reimu responded with a snarl. "Nothing concerning you, tengu. Out of my way."

"I am afraid I cannot do that," Momiji started, causing Reimu's frown to crease further. "But, perhaps I could do you a favour."

Reimu's eyes widened, unbelieving of the usually upstanding patrol guard's offer of a quid pro quo; a traitorous action, that if discovered would surely lead to her exile, if not death. "...And in return for what, Momiji?"

"It depends. What is it that you seek on this pilgrimage of yours?"

"Have you read the news? Not that I'm particularly comfortable with people witnessing my reputation be torn to shreds, but I digress." Reimu understated.

"I see, then I surmise that the root of your problem is one Aya Shameimaru?"

"You've hit the nail on the head, Momiji. Now out of my way, I don't care to hear out your protes-"

"I can help you deal with that."

Reimu stared blankly at Momiji as if she had gone crazed; precisely who this mania affected was still not clear to Reimu, was it she that had gone mad, and she merely imagined Momiji's keen acceptance? Or had the wolf tengu truly lost it, completely willing to betray her own kind for the whims of some impoverished shrine maiden?

Finding great amusement in Reimu's flabbergasted expression, Momiji was first to speak up, breaking up the awkward silence between the two. "You appear to have seen a ghost, Miss Hakurei. Is there anything you wish to ask me?"

Reimu lurched out of her trance, evidently more than ready to offload the myriad of questions that she had. "Several. First off, why so-"

"-eager?" Momiji finished for Reimu. "Well, is it really that hard to imagine a mutual animosity between wolf and crow tengu, Miss Hakurei?"

Reimu was getting awfully irritated about Momiji's constant interruptions but thought herself better than to get worked up by such minor peeves. "Okay, perhaps that may be true, but I had thought the two of you to be steadfast friends; or at the very least, associates?"

"Hah! That damned reporter wishes!" Momiji loudly proclaimed, stupefying Reimu at her sudden break from formality. "If could personally lead that crow to a thousand deaths, I would gladly do so. But alas, us wolf tengu are bound to a code of honour."

"Wh-" Reimu was about to question perhaps one of her greatest misconceptions being shattered right before her eyes but decided to allow Momiji to continue her rant.

Regaining her professional tone, Momiji continued explaining. "Thus, the most I can do is guide you to her print shop, and to not raise an alarm about it."

Understandably, Reimu was somewhat apprehensive about this seemingly far too good-to-be-true offer being made to her; after all, it could always be nothing but an elaborate plot, a sting to gauge and further indict the miko in her true intentions. The worst part was that she would not put of any the previous to be past the purview of Momiji. "You seem awfully nonchalant about all of this, how can I trust you to uphold your word?"

In response, Momiji merely shot Reimu a cold glance, which suddenly reminded her body of the freezing cold currently surrounding it, and of her distinct lack of clothing to combat it. Releasing an involuntary shudder, and cursing her past self for not wearing a warm coat before heading out, Reimu raised her head up to meet Momiji's gaze.

Fortunately, it seemed as if the gaze was not directed at Reimu, for it was only a moment later that Momiji spoke again. "It just so happens that I have a bone to pick with Miss Shameimaru."

Fighting off the desire to snicker at Momiji's accidental pun— the poor girl was never the most tactful with her words, Reimu took the sudden use of metaphors as a sign of trustworthiness. "Well, you make a compelling case, Momiji. Looks like I'll be in your care from here on out."

Momiji flashed a grin that only a predator could give. "Of course, Miss Hakurei, you will not come to regret it."

Reimu doubted Momiji's assertion but thought better than to question the hand that she had been dealt. Marching together in file formation, so as to mind the narrow pathways of the mountain ridge, she suddenly thought to correct the wolf tengu on one account.

"Also, it's 'Reimu' from now on, Momiji."

Momiji stopped for a second, her face betraying signs of internal conflict, before finally settling on a response.

"As you wish, Reimu."

"Once again, Kirisame, I am impressed by your ability to survive in absolute filth."

Marisa could sense yet another argument, and invariably yet another headache, brewing.

"I mean, just look at all these books! No wonder it's taken this long to find my spellbook, if you've even attempted to do so at all!"

That was fair.

"...Sorry."

"All of this dust as well! Patchouli wouldn't survive a damned day in here!"

Okay, less fair.

"Well, I ain't anything like that asthmatic shut-in, but whatevs'."

"And gods, the sheer amount of fragile objects just dangling from your windowsills and shelves is giving me grief! How could you possibly justify living in such squalor?"

That did it.

"Because it's my own house, damnit!" Marisa snapped back, startling Alice. "And I don't need some know-it-all cleanliness freak t' lecture me 'bout it!"

An uncomfortable silence draped over the two yet again; unwilling to let all the progress made in the past hour be in vain, however, Marisa let loose an exasperated sigh.

"Geez, I'm real sorry 'bout that outburst, but ya just haveta realise not everyone's gotta conform to your standards a' living, got it?"

It seemed as if Alice was preparing for yet another verbal fight that never materialised, since her body, previously tense, relaxed at Marisa's unexpected concession. "...I understand. Apologies, Mari."

"Yer forgiven, Ali."

The crisis now firmly averted, Marisa refocused her attention towards more pertinent matters. Alice followed along carefully in tow, making sure not to accidentally step on some stray gadget that was more than likely to be strewn carelessly around somewhere.

As stuck up as Alice was about her living arrangement, Marisa couldn't but help but agree slightly - and silently, of course - with her comparatively far more organised friend. To her, everything in Alice's house screamed 'organized chaos'; everywhere she looked, there'd always be a half-complete doll sitting silently on a shelf, or some important (and high value!) magical item laying neatly on an invariably polished and kept surface.

To an outside observer, it was a hoarder's paradise— though Marisa knew that it was so much more than that. Every 'class' of item was neatly sectioned off into its own special area, separate from other groups. Alice herself seemed to intrinsically know - likely via memory - where everything was, with her dolls doing most of the heavy lifting by transporting these items when required. This also made stealing borrowing anything and everything far harder for Marisa, but hey, that also made pulling off successful heists just that much sweeter.

All of this, in contrast to Marisa's house, which was dirty, unkempt and on occasion disastrously labyrinthine. In fact, so crowded were the hallways, and cluttered were the floors, that Marisa oft preferred to simply float a chair's height above when traversing the minefield (sometimes quite literally) that was her living room.

Carefully guiding the both of them through the aforementioned minefield, Marisa held Alice's hand, so as to more carefully advise her on where and where not to step. This, of course, elicited annoyed grumbles from the puppeteer.

"I'm not a child, you know?" Alice complained, arms crossed. "I can walk just fine on my own."

Turning her eyes away from scanning the ground for any dangers, Marisa raised a brow. "I'd rather not get my house blown up today, thanks, but not thanks."

"Then why not just organize your horrific mess of a living room?"

"Same reason I mentioned before."

Alice paused for a second, racking her mind to find a correlation between the two statements, before finally connecting the dots together. Puffing her cheeks up into a pout, one could obviously tell that Alice did not appreciate being shown up in the slightest, and yet pursued no further retaliations, preferring instead to continue following Marisa's instructions on how to traverse the living room killing grounds.

Before long, however, the pair could finally rest easy, as they soon reached the only room in the entirety of Marisa's little maze-disguised-as-a-house that could perhaps be called somewhat orderly and well-kept. Not out of any virtuous intent or a sudden and inexplicable need to keep this specific slice of her property comparatively immaculate, but rather out of sheer necessity.

The Kirisame Magic Shop's very own kitchen— is an absolute marvel in engineering and technology; a slice of the outside world, enclosed within a bubble that is maintained by perhaps the least trustworthy person for the job. Truly, it's a miracle that Marisa hasn't yet blown herself up to face the Yama's judgement, and has encountered (relatively) few issues when operating the mystical contraptions she was told were called an 'oven'.

It sure didn't look anything of the sort, that was for certain. Ovens are meant to be, based on what few specimens Marisa had seen before, gigantic in size, easily able to dwarf even some of the taller youkai she'd met before. They were fashioned from stone and clay, housing a sizeable opening to deposit food inside, alongside a fire that sat a fair distance away from one's food, cooking it without burning it.

This, in contrast, was somewhat smaller, reaching up only to about Marisa's navel. It possessed weird knobs that she could only guess controlled the temperature of this advanced 'oven'; this was both handy and fancy, sure, but also had the unfortunate side effect of making the ever-curious magician ravenous for any and all information on the thing.

On top was situated a device that Marisa was far more familiar with; though far removed from her old Daruma stove of old, at least it didn't spew any nasty smoke that would always inevitably fill the room with noxious fumes.

However, the most exceptional feature of the little modern stove that could, was its ability to spew out a strange blue fire. Marisa didn't particularly care for the fancy light show per se, but what she did care for was the adorable fascination with which Reimu always regarded the esoterically coloured flame; her stoic demeanour, cast aside in favour of an unusually obsessive passion for the outside world technology.

Truth be told, there were probably a billion other gadgets in Kourindou that were infinitely more interesting than some lame cooking fire, at least to Marisa. Though, if that was what she liked if it meant actually seeing Reimu smile for once— and a warm, genuine smile at that, not the unnerving, 'I'm pissed' smile that Marisa was regrettably far too accustomed to, it'll be worth all the uninteresting tinkering sessions in the world.

It should also be mentioned that, unlike Reimu, Marisa actually knew how the stove worked— of course, not the entirety of it; the oven bit was still very much a mystery to her, but it seems that ol' Kourin's knowledge pool could do more than hilariously misjudge the utility of an outside world curiosity if Yukari and Sumireko were to be trusted, that is.

If you think about it, it's kind of all Reimu's fault for not asking him for advice; not that Marisa was complaining or anything, it just meant she'd get to spend more time getting all nice n' cuddly with her- not much else she could really ask for, really.

Oh, and it granted her the opportunity to steal Reimu's food. Marisa was running dangerously low on stuff to eat.

"Something wrong?"

Right, she still had a recipe to experiment with.

"Nah, nothin' much. Just daydreaming, as usual, ya' know?"

Alice nodded silently, and turned towards the oven/stove hybrid in confusion. "Is... this part of our plans?"

"Oh, right." Marisa bashfully rubbed the back of her head, embarrassed at the prospect of having left out such an important component. "Come 'ere, I'll explain it t' ya!"

Alice clamoured over to Marisa, carefully avoiding a stray miniature portal situated on the ground; likely a part of what remained of a particularly ill-advised experiment, she reckoned.

"First, we gotta turn what we've foraged and whatever I've got left in the pantry into something halfway edible."

"Mhm."

"Then, we start searching for your book, since you want it back so much, ya bleedin' heart."

"Mm-hmm."

Marisa started to become unsettled by Alice's seemingly non-committal responses but soldiered on regardless. "... Finally, we gotta somehow rope Reimu n' some other poor unfortunate sucker into taste testing the result alongside us, got it?"

"Yup."

Marisa pouted and crossed her arms in irritation. "Alright, that does it. I gotta ask, is there some damned slight that I've accidentally n' unknowingly committed against ya? Again, that is?" Marisa grumbled, previously mild annoyance now boiling over into exasperation.

"Hmm? Uh-" Alice sputtered. "Apologies, I was zoned in whilst listening to you."

"Really? Then what did I tell ya?"

"Cooking, the rightful return of my spellbook, and roping more people into helping us."

"Alright, that's— uh, that is correct, congrats."

Marisa's face warmed in a mix of indignation and sheer embarrassment at having been proven wrong, and over such a simple misunderstanding as well. "There really no other questions ya wanna ask? I mean, we ain't exactly in a rush, sooo..."

"No need, I think I've already got a solid enough grasp on how we will proceed." Alice stated rather matter-of-factly, a far removal from her previous inelegant bawling and uncooperative attitude. Perhaps she was just like this when getting to work?

"Wait, even on how my oven-stove thingamajig works?" Marisa questioned.

"Um, n-no. But, we'll get there once we get there."

"Riiiiight, sure, ok."

It was now rather obvious that Alice was trying her damndest to act her usual composed and know-it-all self, compensating for her free display of emotion a moment before; of course, Marisa didn't exactly share Alice's near-suicidal confidence in her own ability and felt something compel her to try and convince otherwise.

However, a tempting alternative would be to simply step aside, and watch as Alice likely inflicts nasty burns on herself in an attempt to figure out how to operate the contraption on her own.

Marisa shrugged off such thoughts as, quite frankly, asinine and straight cruel, reserved for those with slackened moral compasses; Alice was her friend, after all! Besides, Marisa liked to think that she was somewhat upstanding enough to be judged as being entitled to at least half a compass.

Also, Marisa preferred not to witness her house go up in flames. She'd already had to learn the hard one once and was not willing to do so again.

"Hellooo? Are you there?" Came an interloping voice; a familiar one, at that.

Damnit, she'd been daydreaming again.

"Oh, huh? Yeah, sorry." Marisa blubbered out, snapping once again out of a trance.

Gods, for a supposedly genius and frighteningly adaptable magician, Marisa was perhaps the most airheaded person Alice had ever met; just how the fool hasn't blown herself up already in some freak accident, she perhaps never may know.

Well, Alice hopes that she never has to know.

"Anyway, I'm kinda sorry t' say this, but I don't trust a lick a' what you said about havin' a "solid-enough grasp". I'll still need ta train ya on how to work this thing, ya hear?"

Alice sighed, it seemed as if her masterful plan of subterfuge had not gone as planned after all.

"Fine, lead the way." She relented.

Marisa grinned. "Ya won't regret it, Ali."

Gently stroking the brilliant, violet hair of a slumbering inchling princess, nestled gently within her lap; the Youkai of Boundaries looks on from beyond the veil, peering into a familiar tear in the fabric of our reality.

From this portal, out flew words that, when assembled together, roughly formed themselves into another pointless, petty argument about how to properly handle cooking appliances streamed from the gap. A staple for Kirisame & Co, that, at least, was for certain.

Yukari sighed and willed the gap shut, reclining without any of the grace usually expected from a person of her refined stature onto the tatami floor. A sudden surge of shock panged throughout her body at the realisation of the still resting Shinmyoumaru nestled in between her legs, but a quick inspection thankfully showed the inchling princess to still be sound asleep.

On the subject of the shrine's various other inhabitants, she had expected to see that freeloading, rambunctious oni stumbling around drunk out of her mind yet again, but was pleasantly surprised with the lack of both stray, half-empty sake bottles strewn across the floor and of the presence of the drunkard herself. Likewise, Reimu's resident komainu was also nowhere to be seen, despite ordinarily being perched outside on the veranda, astutely guarding the shrine against any and all threats whilst her erstwhile master was out incident-solving.

In other words, aside from one dormant inchling who, let's be honest, is at this moment probably only worth an eighth of a regular-sized person, Yukari was well and truly alone.

It was not all doom and gloom though; however much this process admittedly bored Yukari out of her mind— a rare achievement, when taking into consideration her substantial age- so long as all the pieces continued falling in her favour, she would play the part of the fool for as long as it took, in spite of how embarrassing it is to be subjected to the abrupt, emotion-driven whims of the current Hakurei Shrine Maiden.

She drooped her head in shame. Reimu may be a handful at times (an understatement, if there were ever any), but she was useful and generally tolerant of Yukari's antics. The true problem lay within the Moriya Shrine Maiden; not in any way caused by the sweet, amiable outsider girl of course, but rather the unknowable deigns bestowed upon her by her guardians.

A closer eye would definitely need to be kept on that dreadful and frustratingly sly wind god, that was for sure. But when faced with just how she was to do that, Yukari drew blanks. Obviously, more planning was definitely in order, and what better time to start than now?

And, as if to perfectly punctuate her thoughts, Yukari heard faint rustling originating from outside the shrine. Now, this sound could've been made by anyone, not to mention anything. But, taking into account the time of day, it might just have been made by the person whom she was waiting for.

She'll just have to wait and see.