Gensokyo, Before London
Like always, the sounds of knives thudding on wood began at one o'clock, going on for a matter of minutes as Ran Yakumo sliced and diced the bricks of tofu she'd taken from the pantry. Occasionally, it would take longer – when mistress Yukari had need of her, or when Chen was getting rambunctious – but it would get done, and the cubes would be tossed into an oiled pan where they'd sizzle and hiss.
Occasionally, there'd be a damp inhale as she watched the faces of the cubed tofu go a crisp brown. Almost without fail, her startled embarrassment would earn a laugh from her mistress if she was within earshot.
Ran hurriedly caught herself doing just that – it was unseemly to drool – but Yukari made no comment from the living room.
The lack of teasing felt abnormal, but it didn't dampen Ran's mood. She turned the tofu time after time before she leant out of the kitchen.
Yukari was sitting in the living room, resplendent in her white dress and purple tabard.
Ran almost returned to the kitchen when Yukari asked, loudly, "Ran, would you say this project is a good idea?"
The youkai expansion project.
"It is my mistress' plan; it will be done," Ran said the words, knowing they would not be enough.
"Speak plainly," Yukari called out, providing Ran with the necessary permissions.
"…Let me just serve up…!" Ran poured the deluge of golden brown cubes into two bowls – and a mug for the absent Chen, to be set aside for later – and made her way into the living room.
She ensured Yukari was served and armed with a set of chopsticks before she sat herself down, forcing herself to refrain from enjoying herself before she answered her master's question. She turned to regard the same vista Yukari did.
The maple leaves that lay before the naked trees were like a sea of wet, hot colour beneath an otherworldly mist. The barrier – visible only to those who lived in the house before the Border – glowed and fizzled with power, bisecting and painting the sector it dominated a brilliant golden orange, one that put even the tofu and the spoils of autumn to shame.
Ran tried hard not to think about the food in front of her as she formulated her answer.
"I think it is a wise way to display your benevolence, mistress Yukari, and a way to declaw potential rivals. The tengu were remarkably pliant, once we demonstrated your intent," Ran explained.
She was pleased to see that her words brought a smile – however tepid – to Yukari's face.
"Speaking of which," Ran went on, "Zenki and Goki's expedition in sector 18 have borne fruit."
"The vampire outbreak?" Yukari asked warily.
"Yes, they've been watching one particular vampire- please, hear me out!" Ran exclaimed when Yukari began to rise from the table.
Reluctantly, Yukari sat herself down, her golden eyes staring into Ran's.
"One particular vampire who has displayed unusual behaviour for her kind…"
And so, after a lengthy period of communicating through letters, an interview was arranged. The servants of the gap youkai charged out to deliver an invitation to the Scarlet Devil Mansion even as it sailed across space and time.
Ran liked to think she was good at reading the intent found in others. Part of her job was to protect her mistress from unsavoury types.
So as she and Chen were led through the Scarlet Devil Mansion, her hopes were quietly fanned by what she saw and felt. The gatekeeper had been friendly without being intrusive, the winged library assistant was polite and an informative tour guide, and when she met the teenage witch in person, she was almost sure that she'd found the ideal candidates for her mistress.
"Patchouli Knowledge, I presume?" Ran Yakumo's words startled the girl so hard she bumped her head on the shelf she had been searching under.
"Ow… Ah! Is that miss Ran there?" Patchouli asked in a rush, her purple eyes looking Chen up and down.
Chen took the form of a small girl in a red dress with white sleeves and gold trim, her chestnut brown hair -and a pair of black cat ears - peeking out beneath the green hat she wore.
"I'm Chen!" She exclaimed, raising a hand in greeting and giving Patchouli an enthusiastic grin.
"Chen the cat?" Patchouli chanced as her focus lingered on the girl's ears.
"Oh- a bakeneko. Cat youkai," Ran explained, inwardly chastising herself as Chen rounded on her with a wounded look that told Ran that she'd really, really wanted to explain that herself.
Ran compensated. "She's the shikigami of…"
She waited until Chen rounded on her again, this time sporting that childish grin.
There was the excited sound of a small voice taking a deep breath.
"RAN!" Chen shouted, her big smile returning.
"Yes! Oh, and I'm Ran Yakumo. How do you do?" Ran explained at last with a bow.
Patchouli returned the gesture, startled as Ran started up again, "Oh, shikigami are-"
"Summoned spirits, yes. Yukari took you, a fox youkai, and summoned you up as a servant, you explained as much in one of your letters," Patchouli pointed out.
"Ahhh! Of course I did. I don't mean to come across as condescending, I'm rather nervous about today," Ran admitted.
"You're not the only one! It is a pleasure to meet you, Chen," Patchouli would bow to the child at Ran's side, "I've never encountered a bakeneko before." Patchouli said.
The small catgirl bowed back, swept up in the moment.
"And Ran Yakumo, hello! Thank you again f-for…" Patchouli's left foot faltered.
Ran's hands left the folds of her sleeves as she rushed forward. She caught Patchouli on the way down.
Before Ran could ask, Patchouli gripped at her arm for support. "I'm okay, I'm okay, j-just need to sit down."
"Understood. Chen, a chai-" Ran's command was masked by the sound of a cascade of papers splashing the ground, punctuated by the smack of hardbacks bouncing off of the library's carpet.
And the sound of the crystal ball's hard, heavy shape rolling across the floor.
"Chen?!" Ran raised her voice in mock outrage.
Chen flinched at the reproachful sound, her two tails bristling as she stood poised, ready to attack the pile.
"Get me a chair for miss Patchouli, this instant!" She said sternly.
"I- wha- but-!" Chen started.
"Now! And no backtalk!" Ran commanded, feeling her heart strain at seeing Chen's wounded expression.
The bakeneko moved quickly to bring a chair over, even though she looked hopelessly sad. Once Patchouli had her hands on the head of the chair, Ran craned around.
"I'll see to the mess. I am really, terribly sorry about this," Ran said, offering a fox-like smile.
"It's fine, I can summon Koakuma here to deal with it-"
"Ah, no need. Chen, attend our host." Ran brushed off the offer, hurrying to the mess, shuffling the papers, arranging the books and - when she was sure the witch wasn't looking - picking up the crystal ball, bringing it close. She went low with a hand, slipping a wispy, smoke-like shikigami between the layers of glass, giving it a moment to lose itself in the pool of shadows at the ball's center before she helped the solid mass back onto the shelf.
Satisfied with her placement of the listening device, Ran fussed over the order of books until Koakuma arrived.
The tea came and went. Patchouli apologised for her display as they seated themselves, with the teenage witch launching into an animated discussion on sorcery whilst Chen sulked beside her mistress. Ran held her cards close, but remained pleasant and attentive, prompting Patchouli with questions and satisfying her with answers when the opportunities presented themselves.
To Ran, it was like visiting an old friend. This meeting had been preceded with many written letters between herself and Patchouli, and however blunt the witch could be, her appreciation for the pursuit of knowledge and her enthusiasm made Ran like her.
"So, so! Umm… you've read about our situation, then?" Patchouli breathed out, spent from her motor-mouthing.
Ran inclined her head. "I have. My mistress appreciates the thoroughness you showed when you gave inventory, and so long as no secrets are withheld, I believe your worth far exceeds your cost.
Miss Patchouli, you do look unwell," Ran Yakumo finished, noting how Patchouli's eyes tried to leave hers. Perhaps she should inform the mansion's doctor…
"Ah, is this her?" A dreary, high-pitched voice said behind Ran.
Ran felt a shiver run through her tails, her gaze involuntarily going to the great doors of the library. They were still shut. She looked down an inch and saw the mistress of the house.
She made a show of hurrying to her feet and bowing to the entity behind her. "An honour to meet you, Miss Scarlet, I am Ran Yakumo, servant to Mistress Yukari Yakumo!"
Remilia Scarlet's red eyes looked up at Ran as though bored.
"For how long does she intend to make me wait?"
Ran's determined frown deepened for an instant. "She is ready to see you now." She was ever ready.
"Remi…" Patchouli's whisper didn't make it past Ran's hearing.
"Lock up whilst I'm gone, Patchy," Remilia waved off the concern, "and try not to worry yourself sick. This is a formality."
Ran consciously took in a breath, restraining her irritation at Remilia's blasé attitude.
Then she spotted Patchouli's expression. It was the same expression Ran had worn when she fretted over her own mistress.
Ran forced herself to smile for the teenage witch's benefit.
When she led Remilia through the gap that Yukari had left for them, Ran's frustration turned to worry.
Yukari was fond of symbolism and drama, using living examples found in time or in fable to stress whatever point she was trying to make.
Ran stepped out first onto the grass and dirt of mount Shiroyama, and realised she had to be quick.
"One moment please, mistress Scarlet," She hurriedly turned, bowed, and strode up the hill with her hands hidden in the sleeves of her dress. The night was dark, but to a youkai's eyes it was no obstruction. She could see the figure of her mistress standing on a rocky spire that jutted out to overlook the slopes.
Below them, the imperial army of Japan, in their midnight blue uniforms and their immaculate dress, continued to ready the guns for their midnight assault against the rebel samurai. The two armies were like a mass of insects beneath the two youkai, and it was apparent at a glance that the samurai were doomed. Locked by tradition, outnumbered and surrounded, there'd be a slaughter.
"Mistress Yukari, I do not believe this display is suitable. Granted, such a show of force had the desired effect on miss Kazami, but…" Ran said.
Yukari's dress flowed as she turned, her golden eyes having lost their lustrous sheen as they regarded Ran's coldly.
"Do you claim to know my mind, servant? To judge my actions?"
Ran felt the words hit her like a blow to the gut. The venomous tone, the divorced look in her mistress' eyes…
"Mistress Yukari, it's not too late. Let us conduct the interview some other time. Please, the- the work you could do together!" Ran protested.
"Bring her here. We shall talk," Yukari said, her voice tinged with disdain.
"Mistress Yukari-"
And like that, Ran's words cut off. Yukari had muted her. She looked up into Yukari's narrowing eyes.
"You've said too much. Bring her here. Now, that I might render judgement," Yukari commanded.
With her speaking rights revoked and her body's autonomy suspended, Ran wordlessly obeyed, going down the slope to collect Remilia.
Her eyes stared vacantly over the slope, hopelessness mingling with outrage. She watched the imperial army butcher the rebelling humans as Yukari verbally lambasted Remilia, throwing all their work away.
Time passed, and Ran worked as hard as she ever did. She dispatched orders through the Yakumo network's hordes of spies, shikigami and messengers, completed her chores and gave assignments to Chen, monitoring her progress.
But there was no flourish to the work or liveliness to her. She completed the work to her usual high standards, but after that she would wane. She'd taken to the habit of taking off her dress and returning to her bed. Yukari passed no comment on it, though Chen would ask – loudly and worriedly – why her immediate superior was acting this way.
One day, Ran would hear the pitter-patter of her shikigami's feet on the border house's floor mats, and she'd curl harder into the covers.
"Miss Ran! Mistress Yukari wants to know if you'd like some fried tofu!" Chen exclaimed.
Awkward silence resumed.
"…I, I told her you love fried tofu, but she told me to come ask if- to come ask you if you'd like some?" Chen insisted.
Another pause.
"She'll cook it for you if you'd like!" Chen piped up.
"No, I'm not hungry," Ran mumbled.
She turned her back, her blonde tails lying flat on the floorboards.
"Please eat something, Miss Ran?" Chen pleaded.
"Whatever is being made, I'll be satisfied," Ran said without feeling.
"O-Okay," Chen said, her voice so small and so sad that it made Ran feel wretched.
She heard her shikigami rush away to tell Yukari.
When night fell, it was Yukari who opened her door, letting light flood in from the living room.
"You have something to say to me, Ran, and you have my permission to say it," Yukari sighed.
Ran's shoulders sagged, her eyes still on the opposite door that led outside. "'Gensokyo accepts everything'. You told me that, frequently. You remember?" Ran asked.
After a pause, Yukari spoke. "I do."
The covers bunched as Ran closed her slender fingers within them. "One day, she might come to Gensokyo. If not her, some other enemy of yours, one that cannot be reasoned with. If they came with a mind to hurt you, what can you do alone?" Ran looked over her shoulder at Yukari.
Her superior had set herself down on her knees, her golden eyes downcast.
She said nothing, and continued to say nothing.
Ran accepted the prompt. "That aside, your youkai expansion project, the concept is brilliant. It needs finessing, but the fundaments… and I genuinely believed in Remilia Scarlet. She's cut from a different cloth, and…"
More silence. Ran turned her back once again, bunkering in as she felt kernels of resentment find her voice.
"And… misuse me as you like, but surely I can be put to better work? To have me survey and comb through the sycophants and the deviants, to correspond and interview the receptive candidates, only to dismiss them out of hand? Have I slighted you in some way, mistress Yukari? Is this some-"
"No," Yukari said forcefully, the following words growing gentler, "No, you haven't, Ran.
I rejected her out of fear."
Ran mulled over those words before she turned over to face her mistress. Yukari smiled bravely down at her.
"Truly?" Ran asked.
"I am not familiar with sharing power, not since her," Yukari said, "And I still have many enemies in the outside world, as you've said. If they gathered…"
Yukari sighed and waved away the thought as though it was smoke in her face, her expression pensive.
"Do you – do you remember the argument we had, when you chose your familiar?"
"Chen," Ran said.
"Yes, Chen. Do you remember how agitated I grew?" Yukari asked.
"How could I forget? You were insistent I pick one matching my status. You were particularly pushy about a hakutaku."
"Yes, but you picked Chen. Not Zenki, Goki, or any of our other pets. You picked Chen. On a whim borne of pity, at that," Yukari remarked.
Ran felt a stab of guilt. It had been an impulse, one that a good servant should've been able to ignore.
"She cannot advise you, she cannot protect you, and is barely able to cast magic. She certainly isn't strong, and she's not that fast." Yukari said. Ran felt stung, on the brink of sticking up for her shikigami when Yukari continued.
"And yet, she's strengthened relations between us and the rest of Gensokyo's inhabitants in ways you and I couldn't indulge in or even conceive of." Yukari said with a smile laden with nostalgia. Ran felt her temper cool, the fond memory of Chen's antics lightening the mood.
"And what would you and I do without her irrepressible spirit running through the house?" Yukari asked. Ran didn't answer; instead, a long silence settled between the two as Ran watched her mistress, weighing the weary sorrow in Yukari's eyes.
"You still believe Remilia Scarlet is one to watch, on account of her lies, her impudence and the chance of her bringing fresh enemies to my door?" Yukari asked solemnly.
Ran felt her spirit lift, nodding warily. "She could one day become a threat to Gensokyo if left unchecked. Though, if she-"
"Then it's settled," Yukari's folded fan was suddenly in her hand, blurring open and clicking shut to emphasise the point, "Continue to monitor this Remilia Scarlet and provide me with reports on your findings.
She will not impede the project."
Ran felt her vitality surge as she saw the kindling light in Yukari's eyes.
"Yes, mistress Yukari; I've been receiving reports of a human befriending youkai, now trapped in Makai. Would you like to read it now, or after supper?" Ran asked, shedding the duvet as she got to her feet, the covers still hanging off her tails. Yukari turned to give her privacy, making her way into the living room.
"Ah. Let's read it now. I mustn't put things off, must I?" Yukari said over her shoulder.
"Say, Ran?"
Ran paused in the act of dressing herself.
"Why do you care so much about this project going ahead?" Yukari finished.
Ran thought about her answer as she finished putting on her dress, tabard and hat. She crossed into the living room with the reports. "Because… when the outside world rejected you, you built your own, rather than submit. Yours is a vision I would happily make reality."
"Well said, servant," Yukari replied, her gaze lowered to the sheaf of papers now in her hands. When Yukari looked back up, Ran felt a thrill run down her spine. Gone was the dull, glossed over lethargy, her golden eyes now shining with a mischievous, inscrutable light, underlined by her knowing little smile.
"I've increased the limit on your command capacity. Finesse the orders you've given previously and create new ones for your additional agents. Be quick now - tonight, we redraw the maps."
There it was, as it should be. Ran was the vessel of Yukari's will, and she would carry it out to her master's satisfaction. She'd have it no other way.
"Yes, mistress Yukari," She smiled modestly as she dismissed herself, her mind already abuzz with broadened search patterns and shikigami hopefuls she'd been keen to put to work.
London, Day 2
Like always, the sounds of knives thudding on wood began at four o'clock, going on for an hour as Hong Meiling worked on her knife throwing.
Meiling paused in her practice, staring down the narrow stretch of untended soil to where her target stood.
"Are you sure this is okay?" She asked, glancing back at her audience. Patchouli Knowledge waved her on to continue whilst 'Sakuya' stood there, wearing a nighty and a vacant smile.
"Yes, yes – this does interest you, you said?" Patchouli said testily, directing the question to Sakuya as her eyes lifted from the book she held before her. She had caught the silver haired servant girl looking through the window at Meiling as she flung knives across the yard and proposed that their guest might want to observe the Chinese girl's throwing style close up.
Sakuya answered her - then and now - with a smile and a demure 'yes, very much so'. Patchouli nodded, her gaze lowering to the rough sketch she was making in a leaf of paper inserted between pages.
"Splendid. I find the knife throwing ever so soothing," Patchouli lied, her flat monotone giving little away.
Meiling picked up on her sarcasm and already began to challenge it. "Miss Patchouli, you said last time-"
"Throw, now." Patchouli groaned. After giving her a sheepish look, Meiling obeyed, casting the knives down range.
"Splendid." Patchouli said without enthusiasm and without seeing where the knives landed. Her purple eyes squinted at Sakuya – or rather, just above her head where the glowing hex loomed. It was of an esoteric design, familiar and yet foreign to the teenage witch. Patchouli restrained a curse as Sakuya stepped forward, spoiling her draft.
"Excuse me, miss Meiling?" Sakuya asked.
"Haaa?" Meiling smiled, her tone betraying her frustration. Patchouli only then realised that the dummy downrange had only a few knives jutting out of it.
"Allow her, Meiling. I'd like to see the human's technique," Patchouli said aloud, her gaze jumping between page and maid.
Meiling bowed her head in deference, offering a knife grip-first.
"I'm the only human here, am I?" Sakuya asked as she took the knife, her silver eyes examining it closely, from the point, down the edge to the solid-blue handle.
"I am Remilia Scarlet's magician," Patchouli said nonchalantly as her pen-hand danced, the nib scratching the paper.
"Whilst I am Hong Meiling, dragon of the east and gatekeeper of the mansion!" Meiling thumped her chest as she puffed herself up.
She was glad to hear the silver-haired girl giggle in response.
"Doubt us, hmm?" Patchouli asked.
"No, I don't, truly – it's just difficult to tell fact from fantasy, after all that's been said and done," Sakuya admitted.
Meiling watched with interest as Sakuya weighed the knife in her hand, the pommel of the weapon in the centre of her palm. The servant girl's middle finger closed over the grip whilst the thumb rested on the flat, the index finger on the spine.
Patchouli watched Sakuya's eyes throughout, wondering what secrets were hidden in that head of hers. She could not speak outright of what held her here in London even if she wanted to – if pressed, she was - according to Remilia's report - made to lose consciousness. If the girl was pushed too far or the hex was strained or forced in some way, there might be a more severe reaction.
Meiling cried out in surprise as Sakuya's knifepoint struck the face of the wooden practice dummy perfectly.
"Very good! – Umm. Say, would you show me?" Meiling asked.
Sakuya looked past Meiling's sheepish smile to Patchouli, herself curious if she was allowed to handle weaponry within the walls of their mansion. The magician looked up when the break in conversation lengthened. Patchouli nodded impatiently.
Sakuya looked back to Meiling with a reserved smile.
"I'd be honoured, miss Meiling. Perhaps- perhaps in exchange you might teach me those movements I saw you doing?" Sakuya asked.
"Ahh, you mean tai chi chuan!?" Meiling exclaimed with a grin and wide eyes.
Patchouli's look of exasperation coaxed another laugh out of Sakuya. "Yes, that," The maid agreed, "May I hear that again, tie…?"
"Tai chi chuan! The cosmic fist from the east," Meiling declared, all smiles and posture, "a martial art to hone the mind, the body, and flow from attack, defence, and back again! Why, the benefits to one's health alone makes it a miraculous thing, wouldn't you say, miss Patchouli?!"
Patchouli Knowledge stared at the ground, and for a moment Sakuya thought she might topple over in some vain attempt to avoid engaging Meiling.
"Yes, yes I would," Patchouli murmured, as though reliving an embarrassing memory.
"Now if miss Knowledge says it is so, who are we lowly employees to argue? Yes, I will take you under my wing, miss Sakuya!" Meiling promised.
Patchouli watched Sakuya as she nodded along and gracefully followed Meiling's lead, her attention on the magical collar, the hex that hung over Sakuya's head like an executioner's blade.
Somewhere in the stark, pointed glyphs that decorated the hex's 'body', she saw Remilia's chain – near invisible and as thin as a thread – hanging over it.
Always interfering, aren't we?
Patchouli's secret little smile gave nothing away as she completed her sketch and quietly left Meiling to teach her new student the movements of her art.
She returned to her sanctum, to the blood red carpets and walls laden with books and scrolls and grimoires and artefacts.
"Miss Patchouli! Ah!" Koakuma rushed down the bookcases, a cobweb-flossed feather duster in hand, "Welcome back! Did you forget your medication?! How is the new girl?!"
"No, and she's fine," Patchouli whispered, a handwave suppressing Koakuma's clamour.
"Mmm… we will need white bryony, and a knife," Patchouli decided.
"Oho! Who're we making mischief on?!" Koakuma asked with relish.
"You misunderstand, little devil – this poppet will be a protective for Remilia's little distraction. Our stores of turmeric are…" Patchouli threw a half-lidded glance to Koakuma.
"We have aplenty!" She said with a smile and a nod.
"Good. Fetch me that and the lavender. Then you will take this," Patchouli lifted the sketch, "and find out where it comes from."
"Understood! Ah- what is it, exactly? It looks like it belongs to an eastern mythos," Koakuma asked, squinting up at the drawing.
"Your guess may well be better than mine. Under a spell of truesight, I was able to draw the sigils that hung over Sakuya the human."
"Oh. It's very kind of you to look out for her, miss Patchouli," Koakuma murmured, taking the drawing when prompted to.
"Hardly. If Remi has an interest in her, then I must protect those interests," Patchouli scoffed, "Now, to work! You and I have much to do, and much is yet unknown."
Time moved slowly as Remilia sat before her would-be instructor. She had asked to draw the curtains – that alone had almost seen her thrown out – and now they sat facing one another in the musty living room, illuminated weakly by the curtain-shrouded sunlight. Mister Osbourne had said little, and now seemed content to glare down at Remilia whilst she averted her eyes, her gaze wandering around the room. She saw an old black powder pistol mounted on the wall, piles of books lying on the table and a seven headed candle holder that stood on a dusty piano's top board. A cabinet with a glass door stood by the piano, its windows displaying china and a small, boxed medallion.
"Why do you not meet my eye, girl?"
Her scarlet eyes lingered on the polished silver coin and the attached black and red ribbon that was displayed in the door of the cabinet.
"What's that for?" Remilia asked, her half-lidded eyes sliding back to the cantankerous old man who tried to wither her with his glare.
He glanced over. For a second, a crack appeared in his expression.
"I don't mean to pry," Remilia explained, remembering Sakuya's words about humility, but keen to flaunt Patchouli's surface research on this human, "but it behoves me to know, does it not?"
It seemed that had still been the wrong thing to say. Mister Osbourne's expression darkened.
"I served in- a war. In Africa. Distinguished Conduct Medal, for- actions taken, in defence of my unit." His voice was soft then.
"I'm sorry." Remilia said, recalling the portrait that Ruxandra had shoved her way.
"What on earth for?" Mister Osbourne chuckled in exasperation.
"To struggle, to shed blood, for the sake of some trapping?" Remilia sighed dramatically – enough to give the old man pause.
"Some trapping?" He asked, his voice going a little higher.
"Yes." Remilia said, frowning at the way he said that.
A silence hung in the air as she registered the quizzical loft of the brow and the expectant look in his eyes.
"To be rewarded some paltry thing," Remilia rushed out, rising to the pressure to expand on her answer, "after putting your life on the line and losing what you lost, it's disheartening."
"Mmm." The old man's sour tone returned, but there was an alertness to him now.
Remilia tried not to fidget. She tried not to say anything that was too much.
He changed the subject. "Did she tell you that she nearly fainted in persuading me to give you another chance?"
Remilia blinked, already knowing who he spoke of. "No, she did not."
"She did not?" Mister Osbourne repeated the words. There it was again! Remilia chewed the inside of her lip, feeling put on the spot.
"I think Sakuya is something of a stoic. It is likely she is under-"
"Sakuya?" Mister Osbourne asked.
"The name I gave her." Remilia said.
"The name you gave her?" He asked - again, with that damnable tone!
Yes, the name I gave her! It means- if you cast some spell on me to loosen my tongue, human, don't think I won't-"
Mister Osbourne raised a hand along with his eyebrows, quietly marvelling at Remilia's body language. Most girls bristled or grew quiet when they were cross with him, but Remilia had risen to her feet, balled her fists and even made to advance.
"Are you familiar with parrots, miss Scarlet?" Mister Osbourne asked.
"Parrots? No," Remilia said curtly, her dainty chin jutting forward.
"They're exotic birds found in Africa, they've these long curved beaks and bright little eyes – a friend of mine introduced me to one of the locals, who had one of these parrots as a pet. The man had trained him to speak a handful of words, to the delight of everyone around them."
"You mean to make me a pet, then?"
"No," Mister Osbourne coloured at that, his frown returning, "Now shut up and listen to me."
For a second, Remilia thought she might rear up and roar at this miserable little… thing, in all his frailty and rudeness for thinking to talk down to her.
But the thought of failure, of Patchy crying again, turned her fanged snarl into a thin line, nodding to indicate she was ready to listen.
"Good," Mister Osbourne said, seemingly unaware that he walked on a knife-edge, "I dubbed this technique 'parroting' because of that. You recall how I repeated every last few words from you?"
"The key to your sorcery," Remilia said. Her tone was accusatory, but the old man laughed. If only he knew how angry she was…
"That's kind of you, but no – when I repeated those last words of yours, gave you that prompt and a bit of breathing room, what did you do?" Mister Osbourne asked.
"I… I felt like I needed to explain myself." Remilia admitted.
"Exactly. No magic, just a higher, questioning tone of voice, the right words repeated and you're telling me more about yourself." Mister Osbourne said.
Remilia answered him with a smile, her eyes half-lidded as she regained her composure, "So it seems you mean to teach me, if you're instructing me in such techniques."
Mister Osbourne's chair creaked as he leant forward, his white hair silvering as it passed beneath a bar of sunlight.
"There are some ground rules we need to cover, miss Remilia Scarlet, daughter of Vlad Tepes Dracula." He said sternly. Remilia flinched as those last three words were flung at her.
"If you or your parents seek to hurt…'Sakuya', as you know her, I will match that hurt a hundredfold on you and yours. Is that clear?"
Remilia's fangs ground against her teeth behind a closed lip.
"I understand, mister Osbourne," She said.
"Good. Next, you will not lie to me on a matter ever again. Is that clear?"
Remilia frowned, her sullenness replaced with concern. "For the sake of us all, I may have to decline to answer some of your questions then, mister Osbourne."
Mister Osbourne refrained the urge to whip up his cane to show her the door, thinking of the silver haired girl and the promise he'd made to her. "Why is that, miss Scarlet?"
Remilia Scarlet thought carefully how to justify herself.
Be honest with him, Patchy had said, as honest as is prudent to be.
"The… country, in which I live in, is torn apart by war. A secret war. A war where women and children are regarded as fair game, where men kill each other for sport, where their corpses are desecrated and used to decorate rooms and picket gardens."
Mister Osbourne was sitting straight now, attentive. Remilia wrung her hands, putting incredible thought into every word.
"I'm not… afraid of being killed. I've had to do things to survive. And… as a reward, my liege lord has told me that he will marry my sister or he will kill us all," She looked up to see Mister Osbourne's knitted brow. Earlier, she had been trying to fashion her words for maximum effect, but now she spoke more plainly.
He seemed to look moved, she couldn't help but notice.
"I've umm… found, a place to move to. With my sister, and," She thought of Patchouli, Meiling and Koakuma with a bashful smile, "and my knights… but I'm not to be accepted, not as I am now. My manners are lowborn."
Those last four words stole something from the pit of her stomach. She had never once come close to admitting that to anyone.
And here she was, saying as much before a short-lived, already-dying human… she felt tears prick the edge of her eyes.
"If you help me, I'll be able to look after them, and I'm really scared that you're not gonna a-and-"
"Say no more," Mister Osbourne's voice cut through her words, "By God, girl, you lay it on thick," He said - not unkindly. Remilia let a breathless little chuckle escape her as her hand moved to brush away her tears.
"I was thinking the same, quite frankly." For all of Edwin Barnes' smoothness, his words were like a hammerblow, shattering the moment.
She rushed to her feet, instinctively putting herself between mister Osbourne and the intruder and his plastic smile.