"Oww!" I flinched as the needle pierced my skin again, feeling the sharp sting run through my arm.
"Hold still!" Reimu snapped, giving me a light smack on the arm. "You keep moving, and it's going to hurt even more."
"But it hurts already!" I grumbled, trying to stay as still as possible, but every time the needle went through my skin, I couldn't help but twitch.
"Yeah, that's kinda the idea," she replied, pulling the needle through again with practised ease. "Can't believe you step out for a few hours and get attacked by Rumia. Thought you'd be fine, didn't consider she'd show up."
Marisa's voice echoed from the other room as she came out with a box of spellbooks, getting ready to stock them in her store. "Seriously, Marcus, you had one job—don't get eaten. What happened?"
Reimu sighed as she finished another stitch, clearly trying to keep her patience. "I told Rumia she couldn't eat humans anymore. Looks like we're going to have to have another talk." She pulled the needle back one last time, tying the thread off. "There, that'll do. Just don't do anything stupid, or you'll rip the stitching."
I glanced at the neat line of stitches she'd done on my arm, still wincing at the thought of doing something to reopen the wound. "I take it this isn't part of the birthday experience?"
From the other room, Marisa's laughter echoed through the house. "Just wait until we do the birthday bumps!"
"The what?" I asked, confused.
Reimu sighed, looking defeated as she muttered, "Ignore her." She sat back, crossing her arms. "How are you feeling?"
I tested moving my arm carefully, the ache lingering but not unbearable. "Well enough, I guess. It's just... strange. I went three hundred years without a scratch, and now it feels like I've had more near-death experiences in the last two weeks than ever before. Weird, isn't it?"
Before Reimu could answer, Marisa shouted from the other room again. "Hey Reimu! I can't find the candles—wait, never mind! They were under the box!"
I couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Marisa running back and forth, clearly in the middle of some chaotic preparation. Reimu smirked, watching her antics with her arms still crossed. "I can't remember the last time she was this excited," Reimu said softly. "She's taken quite a liking to you."
"Really?" I blinked, surprised.
"It's not exactly hard for Marisa to make friends with people. She's friends with just about everyone. A bundle of energy that rubs off on people whether they want it or not. But... it's nice seeing her put so much effort into this."
I felt a warmth spreading in my chest at her words, and I couldn't help but smile. "I have to admit, you and Marisa have been way too good to me. I never thought anyone would help me out this much. I always assumed the outside world was... well, a 'cat eat cat' kind of place."
Reimu chuckled. "I think you mean 'dog eat dog,' not 'cat eat cat.'" She gave me a playful look. "You've been reading too many books, Marcus. Not everyone's like that."
"Too many books is an understatement," I mumbled, returning the smile. "But... yeah, not everyone is." I looked at her, feeling gratitude welling up inside me. "Thank you, Reimu."
"Think nothing of it," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "A friend of Marisa's is a friend of mine. Besides, we've still got the incident to resolve, and we can't do that without you."
Before I could say anything else, there was a loud boom from the other room, followed by Marisa's panicked voice. "No, no, no, no! I didn't mean to do that!"
Reimu sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'd better go help her before she burns her house down." She got up, muttering under her breath as she disappeared into the chaos.
I watched her leave, looking down at my stitches and then glancing around the room. The decorations, the effort... it all hit me in a way I didn't expect. It was silly, really—something as small as a birthday celebration, a completely made-up one at that. But it felt so... nice. I couldn't remember the last time I'd experienced something like this. My mind wandered back to the library, to the purpose that had defined me for so long. That was my destiny, my glorious purpose, as Noah had always called it.
But did I deserve this? Was it fair for me to enjoy something like this when everyone else had suffered when so many had faded away in the library? I looked down, feeling a single tear well up, which I quickly wiped away as the lights suddenly went out.
The sound of footsteps returned, and then Reimu and Marisa appeared, holding a cake—blackened from being overcooked, with melted candles drooping on top. Both of them were singing Happy Birthday with huge smiles on their faces.
I couldn't help but laugh. The whole thing was ridiculous, but it was... perfect.
"Come on, Marcus! Blow out the candles and make a wish!" Marisa said excitedly, pushing the cake toward me.
I looked at the flickering candles, giving it some thought. Then, with a deep breath, I blew them out, a small smile on my face.
I made my wish, and those words came flooding back.
Your twisted dream will doom us all!
You're dying!
Reimu stood at the door, looking between Marisa and me with a giggle. "Well, that was fun. Almost blowing up your house, Marisa. First time for everything."
Marisa crossed her arms, smirking. "Hey, you're forgetting to take some cake back."
Reimu waved her hand dismissively. "Ooh, I'm so stuffed. I couldn't possibly. I think you and Marcus should eat the rest for me." Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she turned to me, grinning. "Happy birthday, Marcus." With that, she floated off into the night, heading back to her shrine.
"Say what she meant by that?"
Marisa closed the door behind her, looking confused, not really paying much attention to what Reimu had said. "Huh? Mean by what?"
"First time for everything? You telling me Reimu has never been to your house before?"
Marisa had to take a moment to think it over, twirling with her braid. "Suppose... I never have, no?"
"How come?"
Marisa looks at me dumbfounded before shrugging, clearly wanting to drop the topic at the foot of this tree. "I always visit her; she never has a reason to visit me. Besides, I'm hardly actually home, far too busy to worry about that." Marisa looks at me with a long sigh before coughing, fanning the air. "I really should've used a match instead of my Master Spark to light the candles."
"No kidding... You literally just threw a nuke to kill a spider."
"A what?" She blinked at me in confusion.
"Ugh, best you don't know what that is." I shook my head as Marisa started cleaning up the remains of the party. She glanced at me over her shoulder.
"So... how'd you like the cake?" she asked, clearly fishing for praise.
I took a moment, the burnt taste still lingering in my mouth as I cleared my throat. "Well, it was... the best cake I've ever had."
Marisa snorted. "Marcus, it was the first cake you've ever had."
"It's only downhill from here."
She threw her head back, laughing, and tossed the remains of the cake into the trash. "I'll get it right next year, trust me."
The words "next year" hung in the air. There was a slight pause as Marisa hummed to herself before she stopped and muttered, "Oh right… you'll probably be back at the Library of Alexandria by then, won't you? I almost forgot. You want to go back for some reason. Seriously, I'm all alone forever, just protecting some dusty books. No eating, no drinking, no sleeping." Her voice softened, almost apologetic. "I just... sorry. Not my place to make assumptions."
I shook my head, forcing a smile. "It's fine." I looked around the room, taking in the decorations, the effort, and all the little things that made this moment special. "To be honest, seeing all this—drinking sake under the shooting stars, birthday parties, meals out—it's... damn." I let out a deep sigh. "Sometimes I wish I hadn't seen it. Because now it's going to hurt like hell going back."
Marisa stopped what she was doing, turning to face me. "So you're really adamant about going back?"
I nodded. "It's my moral duty. My purpose. I was chosen, and I have a responsibility to uphold. I can't just turn my back on it."
"Good old duty and purpose," Marisa muttered, shaking her head. "Never mind that rubbish. You're not going anywhere anytime soon, not until we find all those pesky forbidden books, right?"
She kept cleaning up in silence, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. After a moment, she spoke up again. "And don't you dare think about walking back to the human village tonight? It's late, and I'm not letting you get nearly eaten by any more Youkai. You're staying here, end of story."
I chuckled. "No way I can convince you otherwise, huh?"
"Nope. My word is law, and failure to follow said law gets a Master Spark to the face," she teased. "I'll get you some blankets and pillows, and you can crash on the sofa."
"Yes, boss. Need a hand with anything?"
"Don't you dare." She pointed a finger at me, mock-stern. "It's your birthday. You just get to relax."
I smirked, mumbling under my breath, "Just get to relax after sending me out all day on material hunting, huh?"
As she busied herself, I looked around the shop again, taking in all the little touches. The paper cranes, the decorations, even the terrible cake. It struck me how much effort she'd put into this—how much she and Reimu had done for me. It was strange. I'd never expected to be cared for like this. I'd spent so long thinking that the world outside was cold, cruel, and unforgiving. But maybe... maybe it wasn't always like that.
Just as I was starting to settle into the moment, the bell on the door jingled, signalling someone entering the shop. I turned around, half-expecting another customer or maybe even Reimu coming back.
Instead, standing there in the doorway was a young blonde girl in a tattered red dress and a pink mob cap. What struck me most were her wings—crystal-like, with multi-coloured shards hanging from them. She looked... wrong. Injured. She stared at me, and I stared back, neither of us speaking for a moment. Her eyes were wide, wild almost, and she looked like she'd been through hell.
Marisa was still rambling on from the other room about the sleepover and how maybe we could read some of the new books she'd picked up, but when she came into the shop, she froze.
"Flandre...?" Marisa whispered, wide-eyed.
The girl—Flandre—made eye contact with her. Her lips trembled as she muttered two words.
"Help me."
And then, she collapsed.
My heart jumped in my chest as I rushed toward her, my mind racing. What the hell had happened to her? Why was she here? And why did I get the feeling that this was the start of something far worse than anything I'd seen before?
