A/N: Here we are, the next chapter that will feature more trouble for our casts. The pacing is quite slow yes, but that is intended to provide more in-depth lore and such. Anyway, this chapter will focus on the after effects of their actions, hence the title. Probably the next chapters will focus on the others, both new and old characters. As I said before, there are images now in the chapters should one is appropriate. You can see them on AO3.

The faint creak of the Hakurei Shrine's sliding doors opened to reveal Rain, leaning against Reimu for support. The shrine's interior was quiet, save for the gentle rustling of wind against the paper walls. Rain winced as she staggered toward the corner where a futon was hastily laid out. The faint scent of incense hung in the air, mingling with the distinct iron tang of blood from her still-bandaged shoulder.

"Sit," Reimu ordered, her tone unusually firm as she eased Rain down. "You've already lost an arm; I'd rather not deal with you keeling over, too."

Rain chuckled weakly, though it quickly turned into a groan as she settled down. "Such bedside manner, oh mighty shrine maiden. It's almost touching."

Reimu knelt beside her, a roll of fresh bandages in hand, muttering under her breath. "You're lucky I don't charge for this level of care. Hold still."

Rain grimaced as Reimu unwrapped the makeshift cloth she'd tied earlier, revealing the angry stump where her arm had been. The skin around the wound was inflamed, and dried blood clung to the edges. The sight made Reimu's brows knit together.

"This is bad," Reimu murmured. "You're lucky you're still standing. You're lucky to still be, period."

"Guess I'm full of surprises," Rain replied, her voice laced with sarcasm, though the tremor in her tone betrayed her discomfort.

Reimu worked in silence for a moment, cleaning the wound with a damp cloth. The sting made Rain hiss through her teeth.

"You're going to have to tell me more about this... transformation of yours," Reimu said as she tied off the fresh bandage. "Hecatia may have gone, but her games aren't done with you yet."

Rain averted her gaze, the flicker of gold in her mismatched eyes faintly glowing in the dim shrine light. "I would... if I knew," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "She's the one who made me drink that weird potion. Said it'd 'help me play her game.' Beyond that... your guess is as good as mine."

Reimu frowned but didn't press further. "You really don't remember anything about your past? Not even what you were before this?"

Rain shook her head. "Nothing before I showed up in Gensokyo. And whatever this transformation is, it's as much a mystery to me as it is to you."

Reimu sighed as she tied off the fresh bandage. "You're terrible at hiding things, you know."

Rain smirked faintly, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Only when I want to be but I can't really remember. I only get to hear what they say about my past slightly."

Reimu stood with a sigh. "Rest. I'll make some tea and find something for you to eat. Try not to bleed out while I'm gone."

As Reimu left the room, Rain leaned back against the wall, her expression softening as she stared at her bandaged stump. Her mind swirled with the fragments of memories she wished she had and the cryptic words Hecatia had left her with. She then recounts the lists of all the crimes they said she had committed. There's a lot that she can't remember all of it but what concerns her is what could be the reason she did those?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps from the shrine's front door.

"Reimu? Reimu! I smelled blood! Are you—oh!"

The voice was familiar, light, and energetic, belonging to none other than Aunn Komano. The lion-dog spirit stopped in her tracks as her eyes landed on Rain.

At first, she tilted her head, confusion written all over her face. "You're... uh..." Aunn took a cautious step closer, her nose twitching.

Rain blinked. "Aunn?"

The lion-dog spirit continued to approach, her nose now practically pressed to Rain's shoulder. She sniffed once, twice, then gasped dramatically.

"Rain?! It is you!" Aunn exclaimed, her tail wagging. "But wait—what happened to your arm? And—oh! You look so different!"

Rain sighed, giving a faint smirk. "Long story, Aunn. Let's just say... it's been a day."

"Well, you smell the same, so you're still you!" Aunn declared with a relieved grin. "But—wow, you've got a whole new vibe going on. Kinda mysterious and scary! But cool!"

Rain chuckled softly. "Mysterious and scary, huh? Guess that's a step up from 'unpredictable troublemaker.'"

Aunn plopped down beside her, her wagging tail betraying her concern. "I'm just glad you're okay... well, mostly okay."

As Rain leaned back, a faint smile tugged at her lips. For now, she let Aunn's cheerful presence soothe the storm in her thoughts.

The rhythmic clatter of teacups announced Reimu's return as she stepped into the room, balancing a tray with steaming tea and a small plate of rice crackers. She paused mid-step when she noticed Aunn sitting cross-legged beside Rain, her tail swishing happily.

"Aunn," Reimu said flatly, setting the tray down with practiced ease. "Let me guess—you smelled blood and came charging in?"

Aunn grinned sheepishly, her ears twitching. "Of course! You know I can't ignore it when it's this strong. But don't worry, I checked—Rain's still Rain! Well... mostly!"

Reimu raised an eyebrow, her gaze flickering between Aunn and Rain. "Mostly, huh?" she muttered under her breath before handing Rain a cup of tea. "Drink. You've lost enough blood already."

Rain accepted the cup with her remaining hand, the warmth spreading through her cold fingers. "Thanks. You didn't have to go all out, though."

Reimu scoffed, sitting on her knees beside her. "I didn't. It's tea and crackers, not a feast." She turned her attention back to Aunn. "If you're here to cause a scene, don't. Rain's been through enough."

"Hey, I'm not causing a scene!" Aunn pouted, crossing her arms. "I'm just... checking on things. You know, fulfilling my duty as the shrine's guardian!"

Reimu pinched the bridge of her nose. "You're about as subtle as a bull in a shop in the village."

Rain chuckled weakly, taking a careful sip of tea. "She's fine, Reimu. Honestly, it's... kind of nice having someone around who isn't grilling me for answers."

Reimu narrowed her eyes but let the comment slide, focusing on her tea. After a moment of quiet, she asked, "Are you sure you're okay, Rain? You're not exactly... yourself anymore."

Rain stared into her cup, her reflection distorted in the amber liquid. "I'm... managing. As much as I can, anyway." She glanced up, her mismatched eyes meeting Reimu's. "But thanks—for all of this. I mean it."

Reimu waved her off, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Don't get sappy on me. It's just what I do."

Aunn's tail thumped against the floor. "See? You're in good hands, Rain! Reimu may act tough, but she's got a heart of gold."

"I'm sitting right here, you know," Reimu muttered, glaring at Aunn.

Rain smiled faintly, the warmth of the tea and the familiar banter easing her tension. For the first time since the fight, she felt a sliver of peace.

Aunn stood, brushing off her knees. "Well, if Rain's fine, I won't linger. Got shrine grounds to patrol, after all!" She flashed a toothy grin and wagged her tail. "Take care, Rain—and don't keep Reimu too busy, okay?"

Rain smirked. "No promises."

With a cheerful wave, Aunn bounded out of the room, her tail swishing behind her as she disappeared through the shrine's entrance.

"You should up her treats, heh..." Rain teased, gesturing toward the door Aunn had just exited through.

Reimu gave her a flat look, setting the supplies down. "She's already spoiled enough. Don't you start giving her ideas."

Rain smirked. "Just saying, she seems like she'd appreciate it."

"Right," Reimu muttered, rolling her eyes but unable to hide a faint smile as she got to work.

Reimu began tending to Rain's wound, carefully applying the medicinal paste before wrapping the bandage snugly around her shoulder.

Rain winced slightly but didn't complain. "You're surprisingly gentle for someone so grumpy."

Reimu shot her a glare but continued working without a word. After a moment, she sighed. "I still can't believe you went through all of that… and you're still cracking jokes."

"Gotta keep the mood light, right?" Rain replied with a weak grin. "I've already got one arm down; no need to lose my sense of humor too."

Reimu shook her head, finishing the wrap. "You're impossible." She stood, gathering the leftover supplies. "Just… take it easy for once, will you? You're not going to heal if you keep pushing yourself."

Rain leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes for a moment. "Don't worry, Miss Grumpy. I'm not planning on going anywhere just yet."

Reimu paused, glancing at her. "Good. Because you're not allowed to leave until you can at least hold a teacup without falling over."

Rain snorted. "Deal. But only if you promise to make some decent tea for once."

Reimu's eyes narrowed. "Do you want me to tie that bandage tighter?"

Rain held up her good hand in mock surrender. "Point taken. They are decent and delicious for real, though."

Reimu paused mid-step, glancing over her shoulder. Her expression softened slightly before she huffed, muttering under her breath, "Flattery won't get you extra servings, you know."

Rain just chuckled as she continues to eat and drink.

"You know," Reimu started, her tone a little more contemplative now, "you really do look different—like, not just with the arm missing, but everything. The way you hold yourself, the way you speak, the way your presence feels..." She paused, eyeing Rain for a moment longer, trying to piece it all together.

Rain met her gaze, her expression guarded. "Yeah, I guess I have changed. Hecatia made sure of that." She shrugged, as if it wasn't a big deal, but it clearly was.

Reimu's lips pursed, her fingers lightly tapping the tray. "It's not just that," she muttered, more to herself than to Rain. "You feel... heavier. Like something's pressing down on you." She looked away, shaking her head. "Anyway, don't think too much about it. I'll get you fixed up as best I can. Just… stay put for now."

Rain gave a small nod, though inside, she was wondering just how much more Reimu could really see—how much she could hide.

Reimu's eyes lingered for a moment longer, scanning Rain's form. She blinked and quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing slightly. "And, uh…" she began, her voice uncharacteristically awkward, "I gotta say, that—uh—that new look of yours... especially your midriff. It's, uh... pretty distracting, I think." She scratched the back of her head, clearly trying to avoid meeting Rain's gaze now. "I'm just saying, it's hard to focus on anything else with those abs glaring at me."

Rain shot her a side glance, a small grin tugging at her lips as Reimu quickly diverted her gaze.

Reimu cleared her throat, trying to get back on track. "Anyway, let's just focus on getting you healed up before anything else."

Rain smirked playfully, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. "Not fair, don't you think?" she teased, folding her arms in front of her chest. "I've been seeing that midriff of yours every day, and yet I can't have mine do the same now?" She raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying Reimu's flustered reaction.

Reimu sputtered, her face turning even redder. "W-well, that's different!" she stammered, clearly caught off guard. "I didn't—look, this isn't about me!"

Rain just laughed softly, enjoying the rare moment of teasing.

Rain chuckled softly, her tone light but laced with a hint of playfulness. "Am just teasing," she said with a grin, clearly enjoying Reimu's discomfort.

"Can't you believe it? Hecatia said this was my look before," she continued, her eyes scanning her transformed state. "Looks like my short hair really has grown much. Also, these abs have been here all along. You just didn't see it clearly."

She gave Reimu a knowing wink, as if savoring the fact that Reimu was being caught off guard by her appearance.

Reimu quickly averted her gaze, clearly flustered by Rain's teasing. "Alright, alright, enough of that!" she said, her tone a bit more flustered than usual. "But seriously, you should lose that armor you're wearing. The chest plate and that tattered black cape—especially the cape. It's a little much, don't you think?"

She gestured toward Rain's armor, a slight frown on her face, but it was clear she was trying to shift the focus away from the current topic.

Rain smirked, clearly enjoying herself. "Oh? Asking me to strip down already? Bold of you, Reimu," she teased, then added with a cheeky grin, "But seriously, I could use a hand. You know... since I'm a little short on one right now."

She raised her remaining hand dramatically as if to emphasize her point, the playful glint in her eyes making it clear she was more focused on the pun than the task at hand.

Reimu rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed with the pun, but the faintest tug of a smile betrayed her amusement. "You're unbelievable," she muttered, stepping closer. "Fine, I'll help you. But don't expect me to play dress-up with you every time you get in trouble."

Rain chuckled as Reimu started unclasping the armor piece by piece. "Oh, come on. If anyone's qualified to be my stylist, it's you, Miss Red-and-White. Besides," she added with a sly grin, "you've got to admit, I pull off the rugged warrior look pretty well."

Reimu huffed as she set the chest plate aside. "You pull off 'trouble magnet' better. Honestly, how do you always manage to find yourself in these situations?"

Rain shrugged, her grin softening into something more subdued. "Guess it's a talent." Then, looking down at the tattered black cape still draped over her shoulder, she added, "Don't forget the cape. I can't exactly pull off the mysterious cloaked hero vibe with just one arm."

Reimu shook her head as she undid the clasp holding the cape in place. "You're impossible," she said, tossing the fabric onto the pile with the armor.

"Impossible," Rain repeated, stretching her shoulders now that the weight was off her. "But charming."

Reimu didn't dignify that with a response—she simply turned toward the pile of discarded gear, muttering something about where to store it all.

Rain raised an eyebrow at her reflection, now in just the sarashi that wrapped around her chest, her transformed physique more exposed than usual. She could feel the cool air against her skin, but the way Reimu was eyeing her—well, it didn't help her sense of modesty.

"All right, I'll stop," Rain said with a half-smile, catching Reimu's lingering gaze.

Reimu, momentarily caught off guard by the lack of armor, quickly looked away, her cheeks faintly flushed. "J-Just... don't get too comfortable in that. You're supposed to be resting, not... flaunting it."

Rain chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the teasing. "Hey, I'm not the one staring. If you're trying to find a way to distract yourself from this, you should probably focus on those herbs you've been sorting."

Reimu, clearly flustered, huffed in irritation but made no effort to continue the topic. "Whatever, just... sit still. I'll go get something for you to cover up with once we're done here."

"Cover up?" Rain grinned, her eyes glinting mischievously. "But I like the breeze."

Reimu didn't respond, just shaking her head as she walked off to get what Rain needed. The teasing might have died down, but the playful energy between them lingered.

Rain glanced down at her reflection again, her hand instinctively reaching for her hair, only to find the length far more than what she was used to. She let out a small sigh, the weight of the longer hair almost foreign to her now.

"I wonder when will this altered look of mine last?" she muttered softly, almost to herself. "I miss my short hair already..."

The longer strands, which now fell well past her shoulders, swayed slightly as she turned her head. It wasn't just the length; everything about her current appearance felt off—like a temporary costume she hadn't quite gotten used to wearing.

She let out a small huff and ran a hand through her hair. "But I guess it'll have to do, for now."

She didn't expect that it would be so different. Nevertheless, there must also be a reason why her past self did change her look.

Marisa came barging into the shrine with her usual energy, calling out, "Yo! Anybody home?!"

Her eyes scanned the room and landed on Rain, sitting casually on the floor, her war scythe resting ominously against the wall nearby. The sight immediately threw Marisa off. She froze, taking in this girl's appearance, from her muscular build to her exposed midriff and defined abs, highlighted by the sarashi wrapping her chest.

Marisa's brow furrowed, and she pointed an accusatory finger. "Wait a second! Is it Reimu's time?! Did a shinigami finally come for her?!" She leaned slightly closer, her gaze shifting to the scythe. "And not just any shinigami—a packing shinigami. Dang..."

She crossed her arms, tilting her head as her eyes flicked back to this girl's abs. "Reimu's slacking on shrine maintenance finally caught up with her, huh?"

Marisa's gaze drifted lower, taking in Rain's overall appearance. Her eyes stopped at the empty sleeve where an arm should have been.

"Whoa, wait a sec... You're missing an arm too? What in blazes happened to you, uh... Miss Shinigami?" she asked, her voice tinged with genuine shock. "Did Reimu do something reckless again?"

Her concern was evident, but it was quickly masked by her usual casual demeanor as she looked around, as if expecting Reimu to pop out. But before Rain could respond, a loud shout echoed from the inner rooms of the shrine.

"Shut up, Marisa! I could hear your voice from the other side!" Reimu's irritation was unmistakable, her voice cutting through the growing twilight outside.

Marisa flinched, scratching the back of her head sheepishly. "Heh, guess I was a bit loud, huh? My bad, daze..." she muttered, lowering her voice slightly but still grinning.

As Reimu walked back into the room, her arms full of what she'd gone out to retrieve, she shot Marisa a glare.

"Really, Marisa? You had to go and say that?!" Reimu sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. "My slacking on shrine maintenance is not why a shinigami is here! And for the record, I'm not in any danger of being 'taken away' just yet!"

Reimu threw her arms up in frustration, her patience wearing thin.

"That's not a shinigami, at least I think... Bah! She's Rain!" Reimu pointed toward Rain, still visibly irritated by Marisa's blunder. "Look at her! It's obviously her, just... different!"

Rain cut in with a smirk, her voice lighthearted. "Well, you did have the same reaction... like Marisa." She leaned back slightly, amused by the situation, before continuing. "Guess I really look different, huh?"

Reimu raised an eyebrow, exasperated. "Don't start..."

Marisa blinked, confusion evident on her face as she stepped closer. "Wait, what? What happened? Is that really you?" She looked Rain up and down, clearly trying to piece things together.

Marisa's eyes widened as she processed the revelation. "I've been looking for you! So that's why you guys were out today..." She trailed off, glancing briefly at Reimu before focusing back on Rain. "I was going to ask you to come to my place for something." She can't exactly say to Reimu that she took the sealing crystal and wants Rain to come with her to use it or at least have her decide for herself.

Reimu raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Whatever that is, it can wait. Let her recover first."

She then hands over to Rain a spare set of clothes. "Here. Put this on." The garment was a white outfit with traditional designs, resembling a kimono. The wide collar and the belt-like sash (possibly an obi) around the waist gave it a soft, elegant appearance. Reimu handed it to Rain, making sure to give her a small smile. "It's better than nothing for now."

Rain accepted the outfit with a nod and a faint smile. "Thanks, Reimu. Appreciate it." She turned to Marisa, motioning to the small table nearby.

"Why don't you sit down, Marisa? This is going to be a long one. I'll fill you in on everything that happened," Rain said, her tone casual but with a hint of weariness.

Marisa plopped down onto the cushion by the table, setting her broom beside her. She crossed her arms, her eyes darting between Reimu and Rain. "All right, I'm listening. But seriously, you've got a lot of explaining to do, ze."

Rain chuckled lightly and turned away to change, slipping into the kimono-style outfit Reimu had given her. She adjusted the sash around her waist, the wide collar framing her neck and shoulders. The traditional design felt strange but oddly comforting after everything she'd been through.

Turning back, she gave Marisa a half-smile. "All set. Let's get this started."

Rain leaned back slightly, the weight of the memories settling in. "It all started when Hecatia showed up here at the shrine. She told me things, things that made no sense at first, then... she took me to Hell." She paused, gathering her thoughts as her fingers traced the hem of the kimono's sleeve.

Marisa blinked, waiting for Rain to continue. Rain's gaze shifted, her eyes clouded with the weight of the events she had just shared. "I'm sure it's a lot to process, so I'll just get to the point..."

And so, Rain recounted her story, the words flowing with a certain clarity, as though each moment had been etched into her memory. She described her transformation, the trials she endured, and how everything had spiraled out of control. The fight, her lost arm, and everything in between, all spoken with precision and a haunting sense of inevitability. The room fell silent for a moment as she reached the most recent events.

"...and that's how I ended up like this." She finished, her voice softer now.

Marisa stared at her for a few moments, trying to digest it all. Her usual banter was gone, replaced with a thoughtful silence.

Reimu, who had been quietly observing, nodded, understanding what Rain had gone through without needing more words.

Marisa leaned back in her seat, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Well, well, well, look at you," she said with a wink, her voice brightening as if trying to lighten the mood. "You really took on those Kishin Chiefs, huh? I gotta hand it to you—going up against those guys takes guts, and you walked out with just one arm gone. Pretty impressive if you ask me!"

She laughed, clearly trying to cheer Rain up. "I mean, if you can take down those big shots, then I think you can handle whatever else comes your way, no problem! Don't let this whole arm thing get you down, Rain."

Her tone was playful, trying to bring some levity to the situation. Rain couldn't help but chuckle at Marisa's antics, her eyes brightening just a bit.

Reimu, still standing nearby, shook her head in amusement. "Typical Marisa. Always trying to put a positive spin on things."

But even she couldn't hide the faint smile tugging at her lips.

As the conversation between Rain and Marisa continued, a voice suddenly rang out from outside the room, loud enough to be heard through the walls.

"Anyone home?" The voice was calm but carried an air of authority, unmistakably belonging to Kasen Ibaraki.

"Kasen? What are you doing here? I hope it's not one of your sermons shenanigans... anyway, come in." Reimu said behind that door.

The door gently opened as she poked her head in, her calm red eyes scanning the room. Her gaze landed on Rain, and a brief moment of hesitation passed before she gave a polite smile, stepping inside fully.

"Good evening, Reimu. And... it looks like I haven't met you before," Kasen said warmly, her eyes flickering to Rain before turning to Marisa. "Ah, Marisa, I see you're here too. Always a pleasure."

Her gaze lingered on Rain again, though this time there was a subtle curiosity in her expression. "I assume you're new to the shrine," she said with a friendly smile. "My name is Kasen Ibaraki. It's a pleasure to meet you."

She held her hand out, as if inviting a handshake, her usual calm demeanor not betraying the quiet acknowledgment of something deeper. Despite the friendly introduction, her eyes seemed to be watching Rain more intently than the moment would suggest. She spoke as though this were their first encounter, though there was an undercurrent of knowledge that Rain wouldn't catch.

Rain shook that hand with ease and looks at her as if thinking something.

Marisa grinned at the sight of Kasen and waved cheerfully. "Ah, Kasen! Good to see ya!" She leaned against the doorway with a teasing smirk. "You know, I think I've found someone who can relate to you, Kasen. You two got something in common now. Lost arms and all that—guess you're not alone anymore!"

Rain tilted her head and then a dry chuckle escaped her lips, but it wasn't out of amusement. "Somehow," she said, shrugging lightly, "I'm not laughing."

Rain raised an eyebrow, then glanced down at the bandaged arm of Kasen, her lips quirking slightly as she spoke, "Well, from where looking, it looks like you have an arm to me."

Kasen chuckled softly, unbothered by the comment, and gave a small, knowing smile. "Ah, you've got me there. Though, it's not the same as the real thing. I made it myself."

Reimu, who had been quietly observing, chimed in from the side, her arms crossed. "That's an artificial one. Don't ask me how, but she managed to make it herself."

After the brief silence, Rain stood a little straighter and gave a polite nod to Kasen, taking a deep breath before speaking.

"Ah, right," she said, a bit awkwardly but trying to sound more formal. "My name is Rain Nanase. I'm not sure if I look the same as I did before, but, well…" She glanced at her changed appearance briefly, then back at Kasen with a soft smile. "I hope we can get along well from here on out."

There was a pause as Rain scanned Kasen's face, something stirring in her mind—a faint sense of familiarity. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it lingered. She couldn't explain it, but something about Kasen felt... right. Something she couldn't place, something that tugged at the back of her thoughts.

However, Rain didn't voice these feelings. She just nodded to herself, brushing it aside for now as she continued to settle into the moment.

Kasen's gaze lingered on Rain's missing left arm, her expression softening slightly. She didn't say anything out loud, but her thoughts grew heavy as she reflected on the sight before her.

How ironic... No, perhaps it's karma, but not in the way most would think. After all, she's the one who severed my arm back then. Kasen flexed her bandaged right hand subtly, feeling the faint pulse of the artificial limb she had constructed in its place. And yet... I was grateful for it. It freed me from what I once was and gave me a chance to start anew.

Her gaze flickered back to Rain's face. There was no anger in her heart, no resentment, only a deep sympathy. Karma doesn't need to be cruel. If anything, I've come to see it as a balance. But seeing her now... It feels too harsh, too much.

Her lips pressed together in a small, thoughtful frown. I wonder if she knows how deeply her actions shaped my life. Does she even remember? No... it's clear she doesn't. Perhaps it's better this way.

Kasen exhaled quietly, forcing herself to focus on the present. Whatever Rain had endured, whatever had led to this, she would offer her support in whatever way she could.

Kasen's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by Rain's voice.

Rain gave a slight nod and gestured toward Kasen's bandaged right arm. "I see... Any chance I could have one too?" Her tone carried a playful edge, but the faint glimmer in her eyes made it unclear whether she was entirely joking.

Marisa snickered. "Oh, now you're asking for fashion tips from Kasen? That's rich!"

Kasen blinked, recovering from her internal musings, and shook her head lightly. "An artificial arm like mine is... not ideal," she replied, her voice steady but tinged with something deeper. "However, I have a better proposition."

Rain tilted her head, curious.

"What if I told you," Kasen said, her expression softening into a small, knowing smile, "that you could have your arm back?"

The room fell silent. Marisa's smirk faltered, and even Reimu, who had been silently observing, raised an eyebrow. Rain, on the other hand, blinked in surprise, her playful demeanor fading as she processed Kasen's words.

The room exuded an air of quiet authority, steeped in tradition and secrets known only to its occupants. Tatami mats lined the floor, and the walls, adorned with delicate paintings of nature and celestial motifs, reflected an aesthetic of an older, more measured era. The atmosphere was serene, yet charged—a silence that felt ready to break at the faintest utterance.

At the center, a low wooden table was meticulously placed, its lacquered surface polished to a pristine sheen. Around it sat two figures of great importance, each embodying an aspect of Gensokyo's intricate balance of power. Yukari Yakumo, the enigmatic youkai sage, lounged with a faint smile, her signature parasol resting casually at her side. Opposite her was Okina Matara, seated upright with regal poise, her eyes sharp and watchful as she tapped her fingers against the table.

Despite their contrasting demeanors, the two radiated a shared understanding, their presences filling the room with an unspoken weight. Yet, their attention occasionally flicked toward the two empty seats at the table—vacancies that hinted at incomplete business.

It was an unusual setting for the sages to convene, far removed from their usual haunts. The room, unfamiliar and impersonal, carried no ties to any one of them. Perhaps it was chosen deliberately, a neutral ground to ensure no biases clouded the matters at hand.

Yukari broke the silence first, her voice light but laced with meaning. "Well, this is certainly an unexpected twist. To think we'd find ourselves gathering so soon after the Hecatia fiasco."

Okina nodded, though her expression remained unreadable. "Indeed. Chaos always leaves ripples, Yukari. Our task is to decide whether they need smoothing or amplification." Her gaze lingered briefly on the empty seats.

The silence stretched once more, the two waiting patiently—or perhaps impatiently—for the other participant to arrive.

The room seemed to hold its breath as Okina's gaze softened ever so slightly, a rare sign of approval. She leaned back slightly in her seat, letting her fingers trace the edge of her tea cup, the movement deliberate as she began to speak, her voice low but clear.

"I must admit, my servants have exceeded my expectations," Okina said, her tone both matter-of-fact and touched with an almost affectionate pride. "They played their parts admirably during the encounter with the Kishin chief. Satono was as composed as always, observing every movement with that unsettling calm of hers. Mai, though a bit more... scattered, showed surprising decisiveness in the heat of the moment. They were invaluable in the field."

Her lips curled upward just slightly as she paused, allowing her words to linger in the air before continuing. "I'll be sure to reward them properly for their efforts. They certainly earned it."

Yukari raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly forward with a knowing smile. "Is that so? I can imagine them more as pawns than servants in the grand scheme of things." Her voice was light, but there was a hint of curiosity in her eyes.

Okina gave a small, dismissive wave. "A necessary tool in the right hands. But, of course, you know as well as I do that it's about knowing how to direct them. They know their place." Her eyes drifted momentarily to the empty seats again, as though considering those still absent.

Then, with a swift change in tone, Okina let out a quiet chuckle, leaning back with the air of someone who found amusement in a private joke. "But what about your servants, Yukari?" she teased, her voice just a little too sweet. "I think the fox is too busy munching on her fried tofu, and babysitting her cat, isn't she?"

Yukari's smile remained intact, though her eyes narrowed slightly with the playful challenge. "I suppose I can't be blamed for their... hobbies. They do make excellent companions, after all. But if you're going to criticize them, perhaps you ought to mention your own peculiar choices in 'tools' as well."

Okina chuckled at the retort, clearly unbothered. "Oh, I have no intention of criticizing them. They work in their own way." She gave Yukari a sidelong glance, her voice shifting into something lighter, almost teasing again. "But it must be quite the task to keep a fox in line. I'm sure she's far more interested in food than whatever the serious business is."

Yukari let out a soft laugh, taking a slow sip of her tea as if to hide her amusement. "Perhaps. But they do their jobs when the time comes. Even if they're a bit... distracted at times. I do train her to behave as I want." She set her cup down, eyes now focused on Okina with a more serious air. "But I imagine we're both here to discuss more pressing matters than just our servants' habits, aren't we?"

Okina nodded, her demeanor shifting back into something more serious as well. "Of course. But it does pay to appreciate the lighter moments in between. Even with everything going on, we must remember why we keep moving forward."

The two locked eyes for a moment, as if silently acknowledging the unspoken bond they shared—two figures who had lived through countless years and challenges. Despite their playful exchanges, the weight of their conversation was about to shift. The empty seats had not gone unnoticed as their eyes kept glancing around it.

Okina leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms with a playful smile. "It seems Kasen is late again," she remarked, her tone light but tinged with a knowing edge. "I suppose she's too busy indulging in one of her sweet-tooth cravings again. I've heard her fondness for food rivals even the most dedicated gourmands. You'd think someone who's lived as long as her would no longer need to eat, but no—she's always munching on something, especially sweets."

Yukari chuckled softly, her eyes gleaming with the same teasing nature. "Ah, yes, her little food obsession. I remember she once suggested hot pot out of the blue, and when Marisa got stranded at her place, Kasen treated her to steamed buns. I don't know if that's a trait of hermits or just Kasen being Kasen, but she certainly enjoys her meals. I wonder if she'll show up with a snack in hand today."

"Perhaps," Okina added, her tone almost mocking. "I wouldn't be surprised if she brought something for everyone... assuming she can tear herself away from whatever she's munching on this time."

Their idle talk were interrupted as a knock from the door is heard. Ran Yakumo's voice called out from the doorway, smooth and composed as ever. "Kasen Ibaraki has arrived."

A few moments later, Kasen stepped inside the room with her usual casual grace. She was dressed in her characteristic attire, and her presence immediately added a warm, familiar energy to the space. Her eyes flickered across the gathered group, and she gave a polite nod to everyone present, a subtle acknowledgment of the playful banter that had been happening just before her arrival.

Ran, standing just at the threshold, glanced over her shoulder at the assembled sages before quietly excusing herself. As she passed the doorframe, she muttered under her breath, half to herself and half to anyone who might overhear.

"I don't eat that much... but then again, she's not wrong about the whole 'babysitting Chen' thing…"

With that, Ran slipped away, her footsteps echoing softly down the hall.

Kasen entered the room, her steps light but deliberate. She greeted the others with a respectful nod, then made her way to the seat that was waiting for her at the table. She noticed the last vacant seat and gave it a passing glance before settling to her own.

Once seated, she adjusted herself comfortably, her eyes briefly shifting between Yukari and Okina. The subtle teasing and banter from before still lingered in the air, but Kasen's demeanor was calm and collected, as though she had already grown accustomed to such exchanges.

"I apologize for my tardiness," Kasen began, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I had a little business to attend to. But I'm here now, so shall we proceed?"

Her tone was light, though there was an undercurrent of sincerity. Kasen wasn't one to be easily flustered, and her habitual fondness for food, especially sweets, was well-known. As much as she may have appreciated Okina's teasing, Kasen didn't mind being late—sometimes the distractions of life were just too tempting.

She settled in, looking at the others with a quiet anticipation, ready to engage in whatever the meeting would hold next.

Okina leaned back in her chair, watching Kasen with quiet amusement. "I take it you're still clueless about the reason for this meeting?" she asked, her voice carrying a playful tone, though her eyes remained sharp.

Kasen's gaze met Okina's briefly before she gave a small, almost resigned smile. "No," she said softly. "After all, this is only the second time I've attended one of these meetings."

She then turned to Yukari, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "I'm not here for the usual matters. My concern is with Rain," Kasen continued. "I simply want to understand the situation more clearly, and offer help where I can."

Yukari, who had been quietly observing the exchange, nodded with a soft sigh. "I know," she said calmly, her eyes narrowing slightly as she gazed at Kasen. "And I've always known. I would wait as long as I need for you to come to my side, Kasen. You always have a place with me."

Her words hung in the air, laden with unspoken meaning. There was no hint of pressure, only the quiet reassurance that Yukari would be patient—patient for the day when Kasen would choose to truly side with her once more.

Kasen blinked in surprise, her brows furrowing as she processed Okina's words. She leaned back slightly, her fingers tracing the edge of her bandaged arm. "The Kishin Chiefs? They're no pushovers by any means," she remarked, her voice tinged with disbelief. "To think that Rain—given the seal placed on her—was able to face such formidable adversaries and come out of it… well, somewhat whole, at least," she added, glancing at Rain's missing arm.

Okina's lips curled into a faint smile as she leaned forward slightly, her eyes glinting with a touch of curiosity. "Ah, Rain," she said, her tone casual but laced with a knowing edge. "She certainly got herself into some interesting business, didn't she? Between her dealings with Hecatia and the battle with the Kishin Chiefs, it's no surprise that her arm is now gone, much like how yours was."

She let the words hang in the air, as if savoring the connection between Rain's fate and Kasen's own loss. Okina's gaze shifted to Kasen, studying her reaction closely. "Karma can be a strange thing," she added softly, her voice almost philosophical.

Kasen's tone shifted, the implications of her words settling in. "If she could face them, it only further proves that the seal's power is weakening, doesn't it?" Her gaze lingered on the room, reflecting on the unseen forces at play. "This is dangerous, and frankly, troubling."

She turned to Okina then, her voice respectful but firm, as a colleague speaking to another. "And as for your talk about karma," she began, her eyes meeting Okina's with an uncharacteristic seriousness, "I would appreciate it if you refrained from such comments. Karma might be your view on the matter, but it's a much deeper subject. You know better than to trivialize such things with a flippant remark."

There was a quiet authority in Kasen's words, as if urging Okina to reflect on the weight of what had been said.

Okina chuckled lightly at Kasen's reprimand, her smile widening as she leaned back in her seat. "Ah, Kasen," she mused with a playful lilt to her voice, "I suppose you would say that." She waved her hand dismissively, as though the matter were too trivial for her to concern herself with. "After all, as a god, I see things a little differently," she continued with a wink, her tone light and teasing. "Karma is a fun concept, but in the grand scheme of things, it's not something I lose sleep over."

She glanced toward Rain, her expression momentarily shifting to something more thoughtful, as if mulling over the implications of her earlier words. "But I understand your point," she added, her voice softening just a little. "The balance between fate and free will is a complicated thing, even for those like me who look at it from above."

Her gaze flicked back to Kasen, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "But don't worry too much. I'm sure Rain can handle her fate… after all, she's proven herself quite capable."

Kasen stood up from her seat, her posture firm and resolute. She glanced over at Yukari, her expression a mix of determination and quiet intensity. "I'm going to help her," Kasen declared, her voice steady, as if the decision had already been made long before she spoke the words. She paused, meeting Yukari's eyes, her tone shifting slightly, a note of warning creeping in. "In my own way."

She let the silence hang in the air for a moment before adding, "And don't try to talk me down on this." Her gaze was unwavering, not just in the decision she had made, but in her unwavering belief that her path—however unorthodox it may seem—was the right one. The room seemed to hold its breath for a moment, waiting for the inevitable reaction, but Kasen was already turning away, her mind set. She knew where her allegiance lay now.

Yukari, who had always been able to sway others with her words, would find no easy ground this time. Kasen's mind was made up. Kasen turned to the door and have them a glance and just nods before closing the door on them as she left.

Okina and Yukari exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. For a moment, neither spoke, but both seemed to weigh the implications of Kasen's words. Finally, Okina chuckled softly, her voice carrying a note of resignation. "Let her go," she said, waving a hand as if dismissing a minor inconvenience. "After all, what's the harm? She won't be so foolish as to ruin the plan."

Yukari's gaze lingered on Kasen, thoughtful yet calm. She knew better than anyone the depth of Kasen's convictions. Kasen wouldn't act recklessly, especially when it came to something as important as this. With a small, almost imperceptible sigh, Yukari leaned back in her chair, her arms folding with an air of reluctant approval. "I agree," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of humor. "Kasen may not be on my side in every regard, but she's no fool. I'll leave this to her."

With that, the matter was settled. Both sages knew that, whatever Kasen's methods, they would be in good hands. She had her own way of handling things—one that, while unorthodox, had never failed to achieve results. And with that assurance, they moved on, allowing Kasen to carry out her plan, trusting that her intentions were aligned with their own.

The conversation shifted back to the present, the air at the room heavy with an unspoken anticipation. Kasen's eyes returned to Rain, her expression thoughtful but resolute. The problem of Rain's missing arm, a wound inflicted by the recent battles, weighed heavily on her mind. She had already devised a solution, but it was far from simple.

"I believe I have a way to help you," Kasen said, her voice steady and firm. "But it's not something that can be done easily. There are complications, of course—" She paused, glancing at Rain's remaining arm before meeting her gaze. "However, if you're willing, we can work together. I can restore what was lost."

Her words carried a quiet assurance, as though the solution was already set in motion. Yet, the manner in which she spoke—measured and deliberate—suggested that the path ahead would be far from ordinary.

Rain's eyes narrowed as she crossed her remaining arm over her chest, her skepticism evident. "What's the catch?" she asked, her tone cautious. "Nothing comes free, especially not something like this."

Kasen smiled faintly, as though she had expected the question. Without another word, she reached into her sleeve and produced a small, elegant box—the Ibaraki Box of a Hundred Medicines. It gleamed faintly in the light, its unassuming size belying the immense power it held. The craftsmanship was intricate, with delicate carvings of Oni motifs etched into its surface.

"This," Kasen began, holding the box up for Rain and the others to see, "is the Ibaraki Box of a Hundred Medicines. It's a tool of extraordinary capability, capable of curing any illness and healing any injury. Including restoring your arm." She paused, allowing the weight of her words to settle.

Rain's gaze flickered between the box and Kasen's serious expression. "And what happens if I drink from it? Because I doubt something that powerful comes without strings attached."

Kasen's smile faded slightly, and her tone turned serious. "You're right. There's always a price. While the box will restore your arm, it doesn't just heal—it changes you. Temporarily, your personality will take on that of an Oni: wild, brash, and impulsive. If it goes beyond mere restoration... well, you may even take on the physical traits of an Oni." She hesitated, her gaze softening. "It's not a decision to be made lightly. But it is a path, if you're willing to walk it."

Rain studied the box carefully, her brow furrowed in thought. The offer was tempting—irresistibly so. Yet the implications were equally daunting. The room fell into a contemplative silence, as everyone seemed to weigh the gravity of Kasen's words.

Rain studied the intricate box carefully, her brow furrowing as she considered Kasen's words. The temptation was undeniable—an opportunity to regain what she had lost. But the implications hung heavily in the air.

Kasen noticed the hesitation and added, her tone more serious, "There's one more thing you need to understand. This box works wonders, yes, but..." She glanced at Rain's missing arm, her gaze tinged with concern. "In your case, I'm unsure if the effects will be temporary. Your current state—your transformation and injuries—make this situation unprecedented. If the effects are permanent, you may not only act like an Oni but become one entirely."

Rain's eyes narrowed as the weight of Kasen's words settled. The air in the room grew tense, the silence thick with uncertainty. Kasen carefully placed the Ibaraki Box on the table between them. "It's your decision," she said quietly, "but I felt you deserved the choice."

Rain remained silent, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts as the gravity of the offer loomed before her.

As the gravity of Kasen's offer settled in, the atmosphere at the Hakurei Shrine grew tense. Marisa's eyes widened, and she stepped forward, her voice sharp. "Whoa, hold on a second! That's the Ibaraki Box, ain't it? The one that turned me into an Oni for, like, a whole day!" She jabbed a finger toward Kasen, her usual playful demeanor replaced by genuine alarm. "You're telling me you wanna use that on her?!"

Reimu, her composure visibly shaken, crossed her arms tightly and fixed Kasen with a piercing gaze. Her voice was low but firm, carrying an edge of barely restrained anger. "Do you even understand what you're suggesting, Kasen? Rain's not just going to get some temporary burst of Oni strength—if it works the way you're describing, it could permanently change her into an Oni." She clenched her fists at her sides, her fingers trembling slightly. "Do you know what that would mean for her? For us?"

Marisa interjected, her tone unusually serious. "Reimu's right! I only had the personality shift, and that alone was bad enough—picking fights, drinking like crazy, and almost smashing my own broom to bits just for fun! If that's what it does to a healthy person, what happens when someone's actually injured like Rain?!" She looked over at Rain, her expression a mix of worry and disbelief. "This isn't some casual decision, Rain! The trade-off could be... who knows how big!"

Reimu remained silent for a moment, her gaze briefly flickering to Rain's missing arm. An image flashed in her mind of Rain fully transformed, her friend no longer herself but an Oni. The thought tightened something in her chest, the implications weighing heavily on her heart. If Rain became a youkai—if she truly turned into an Oni—Reimu's role as a shrine maiden would demand a response. It wasn't a duty she wanted to face, not with Rain, not ever.

But she couldn't say that. Not out loud. Instead, her voice dropped, her tone restrained yet carrying an unmistakable warning. "Kasen, you of all people should know how dangerous that box is. If this goes wrong... if Rain loses herself completely... are you ready to take responsibility for that?"

Kasen's expression softened, and for a moment, her mask of confidence faltered. "I understand your concerns," she said, her voice quiet but steady. "I've seen what the box can do, and I don't take its power lightly. But Rain isn't like the two of you. Her situation—her condition—is far beyond anything I've encountered before. I can't promise anything... but I believe she deserves a choice. That's all I'm offering."

The tension in the room hung thick, the silence punctuated only by the faint rustle of the wind outside. All eyes turned to Rain, who looked at the box with a complicated mix of curiosity, skepticism, and quiet determination.

As the conversation intensified, Kasen remained calm, reaching into her sleeve and carefully retrieving the Ibaraki Box of a Hundred Medicines. The small, unassuming box seemed to glow faintly under the shrine's soft light, its presence commanding attention.

Without a word, Kasen tilted the box slightly, and an otherworldly liquid poured out smoothly, filling a simple yet elegant porcelain cup. The liquid shimmered unnaturally, hues of gold and crimson swirling within as though alive. The air immediately grew heavier with a sweet, intoxicating aroma that carried a hint of raw power. Kasen held the cup delicately, her expression unreadable.

Reimu flinched as the smell reached her, a flood of memories washing over her. She tightened her grip on her gohei, her voice tense. "Kasen, you can't be serious! After what happened to me and Marisa when we drank that—this isn't something to take lightly!" She glanced at Rain, her lips pressing into a grim line. "This isn't some prank. If she turns into an oni—if she becomes a youkai—I'll have no choice but to—" She stopped herself, the thought too bitter to voice aloud.

Marisa, more animated, slammed her broom on the wooden floor. "Oi, Rain! You know what this stuff does? Sure, it's strong, but the trade-off's crazy! You don't just get all moody like an oni; it turns you into one! I barely handled the personality shift, and I didn't even have injuries for it to heal! What makes ya think you'll come outta this in one piece?" She waved her arms dramatically. "Literally!"

Rain's gaze shifted between them and the glowing cup, her expression thoughtful but unreadable. Then she exhaled sharply, a wry grin tugging at her lips. "You two are loud, huh?" she muttered, her eyes locking on the cup. The scent was almost beckoning her now, stirring something primal deep inside her—a mixture of fear, hope, and resignation. She glanced at Kasen, who stood silently, her hand steady as she held the cup.

"Alright." Rain's voice cut through the protests like a blade. She looked at Reimu and Marisa with surprising calm. "If it goes bad..." She took a step closer, holding their gazes one after another. "Make it quick. I trust you."

Reimu opened her mouth to argue, but the words caught in her throat. Marisa, uncharacteristically quiet, frowned deeply, her knuckles white as she gripped her broom.

Kasen's brow furrowed slightly as she studied Rain's resolve, but she said nothing, simply extending the cup toward her. The faint, otherworldly light of the liquid reflected in Rain's eyes as her hand hovered over the cup, trembling just slightly.

As Rain reached for the cup, Marisa couldn't help but shake her head, her usual playful demeanor replaced by a concerned frown. "You sure about this, Rain?" she asked, a bit too loud for comfort. "I mean, last time you had anything like this—"

Reimu, seeing where Marisa was going, cut her off with a knowing glance. "She doesn't remember, but the rest of us do," she said dryly, her voice tinged with exasperation. "Last time she drank, it wasn't pretty."

Rain blinked, a faint sense of confusion crossing her features. "What do you mean? I don't recall...?"

"Oh, you don't remember," Marisa began, her tone suddenly a little too chipper as she went on, "but it was right here at the Hakurei Shrine. You got all... well, let's just say you weren't yourself." She shifted her weight uncomfortably, trying to keep her voice light.

Reimu sighed, shaking her head slightly. "You passed out and... well, puked all over me." she added, the last word dripping with the unmistakable irritation of the memory.

Rain's eyes widened, her hand pausing just above the cup. "I did that?" She looked horrified, but before she could say anything further, Marisa cut in, her face flushed, perhaps from a little embarrassment of her own.

"And on top of that, well," Marisa began, but then trailed off, her face going a little pale at the memory. She quickly cleared her throat and dropped the subject, shifting uncomfortably. "Never mind," she mumbled, her tone clipped.

Rain raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of them. "I did what?"

Marisa let out an exaggerated sigh and crossed her arms. "Forget it, Rain," she muttered, shaking her head as she glanced away. "Just, uh, just know you don't exactly have the best track record with booze."

Reimu glanced at Kasen for a moment before speaking up, her voice softer now. "What she means is, you've got a low tolerance, Rain. Last time you had a drink, things... didn't go so well. That's all."

Rain stood still, her mind racing for answers she couldn't find, but the warmth of the cup before her was still tempting. The memory of their words mixed with the urgency she felt inside to regain her arm. But at what cost?

She finally shook her head, sighing. "Alright," she muttered, half to herself. "I'll take my chances."

Kasen looked at her with a soft, unreadable gaze but remained silent, waiting for Rain to make the decision. The air in the room felt thicker now, charged with both tension and the unspoken knowledge that whatever happened next, it would set things in motion.

In a single fluid motion, Rain tipped the cup to her lips and swallowed in one swift gulp. The liquid slid down her throat, smooth and surprisingly pleasant. It was unlike anything she had ever tasted—sweet, almost floral with a rich undertone that lingered on her tongue. For a moment, she closed her eyes, savoring the taste. It felt... good.

Marisa's eyes widened as she watched her, standing frozen for a moment before her voice broke the silence. "Wait, what?!" she exclaimed, her tone sharp. "You just—!"

Reimu, equally taken aback, was quicker to react, her hand flying to her forehead. "Rain, wait!" she called, but it was too late.

Kasen remained calm, her expression neutral as ever, though her gaze lingered on Rain for a moment longer than was strictly necessary. Deep down, she hoped that it would work—that the arm would return, that Rain wouldn't face any lasting consequences. But she gave no indication of this, keeping her thoughts to herself.

For a second, the room was tense with anticipation. Rain blinked, her mind momentarily hazy from the drink as her senses tried to catch up. But the smooth taste still echoed in her mouth, giving her a strange sense of warmth.

She set the cup down, exhaling slowly. "Huh," she muttered, almost to herself. "That was good."

Marisa was still recovering from the shock, her arms crossed and her expression a mixture of disbelief and concern. "What the heck, Rain? You didn't even hesitate..."

Reimu's voice was quieter, though tinged with concern. "I hope you know what you're doing..."

But Rain didn't respond right away. She stood there, a strange calm settling over her as she waited for whatever would come next.

Marisa leaned in cautiously, her arms still crossed. "How do you feel?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly as if expecting Rain to keel over at any moment.

Reimu followed suit, her tone laced with concern. "Are you okay? Anything feel... different?"

Rain stood still for a moment, letting their worry hang in the air. Then she suddenly clutched her stomach with both arms, her face twisting in mock agony. "Agh!" she groaned, doubling over slightly. "I-I feel—oh no, I think something's—!"

Marisa took a step back, her voice rising in panic. "Rain! Are you serious? What's happening?!"

But Rain straightened up just as quickly, a mischievous grin plastered across her face. "Just kidding!" she declared, letting out a short laugh. "I feel fine. Nothing yet."

The silence that followed was heavy, with both Marisa and Reimu staring at her in utter disbelief.

Marisa was the first to break it, jabbing a finger in Rain's direction. "Are you kidding me? That wasn't funny!" Her face was flushed, part anger, part lingering embarrassment.

Reimu didn't waste a second. Without a word, she stepped forward and landed a solid punch on Rain's right shoulder. "Idiot," she muttered, shaking her fist slightly. "That's for making us panic!"

Rain winced, rubbing her shoulder while still chuckling. "Sorry, couldn't resist," she said, though her grin didn't fade. "But really, nothing's happening yet. Guess we'll just have to wait and see."

Rain tapped her foot impatiently, glancing at Kasen with a raised eyebrow. "You sure this stuff is as good as you say?" she asked, holding up the empty cup. "I mean, it tastes amazing—smooth, a little sweet. I wouldn't mind seconds, to be honest."

Kasen's neutral expression flickered, her tone calm but firm. "Rain, it's not about the taste. This isn't normal sake. Too much could—"

Before Kasen could finish, Rain grabbed the box, poured herself another generous serving, and downed it in one swift gulp.

The room froze in stunned silence.

"Rain!" Reimu barked, stepping forward with a mix of anger and alarm. "Are you out of your mind?"

Marisa threw up her hands, her mouth agape. "What are you doing? Ya don't double down on something like that! What if it makes things worse?"

Rain shrugged, setting the cup back down with a satisfied exhale. "I don't feel anything yet," she said with a lopsided grin. "Maybe it's about the dosage. Plus, did I mention how good this stuff is? Seriously, Kasen, you could make a fortune selling it."

Kasen's lips pressed into a thin line, her unease now unmistakable. "It's not meant for enjoyment," she muttered, her voice low. "And... wanting seconds might already be the side effect."

Unknown to Rain, the signs were beginning to show. The box's influence was subtle at first, but her sudden enthusiasm for more sake—a drink she previously couldn't handle—was telling. The seed of the oni's nature, dormant within the drink, was starting to sprout.

Rain's eyes glinted with a wild edge, her hands shaking slightly as she reached for the box again, her earlier satisfaction fading into an unrelenting hunger. "I still... I still want more," she muttered, almost to herself, her voice thickening with a growing impatience. "It's not enough, Kasen. This stuff... it's too good."

Reimu's expression hardened. She stepped forward, her hand outstretched to stop Rain from pouring herself another cup. "Rain, that's enough!" she said firmly, her voice carrying a sharpness that matched the fierceness in her gaze. "You don't know what you're doing. This could—"

But before Reimu could finish, Rain whipped her head around, her features twisting with an almost uncontrollable aggression. "Don't!" she snapped, her tone guttural and fierce, an unmistakable edge to it. "Stay out of my way!"

Her voice had changed—darker, more raw, like something primal was lurking just beneath the surface. The words left her lips like a command, the force behind them making Reimu flinch, a cold chill creeping down her spine.

Before Rain could make a move toward the box again, Kasen stepped in with surprising speed, snatching the Ibaraki Box of a Hundred Medicines from the table. Her movements were calm but decisive, holding the box close as her gaze settled on Rain.

"That's enough," Kasen said, her voice steady but firm, the subtle authority in her tone leaving no room for argument. "You've had more than enough, and any more would only make things worse."

Rain's glare snapped to Kasen, the wildness in her eyes flaring briefly before a flicker of confusion softened her expression. She froze, her breathing heavy, as if trying to process what had just happened. Kasen's neutral expression belied her concern as she carefully secured the box out of Rain's reach.

As she was about to retort to that action her head swayed, her vision blurring as if the world around her rippled like a disturbed pond. She stumbled slightly, catching herself against the table with her remaining hand. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, the sensation of heat radiating from her left shoulder where her arm had once been. A low groan escaped her lips as she pressed her palm to her temple.

"What... what's happening to me?" she muttered, her voice trembling.

The bandages around the stump of her left arm began to tighten, then loosen, as though the fabric was being disturbed from within. Kasen's sharp eyes caught the faint, rhythmic pulse beneath the bandages.

"Rain, stay still," Kasen said, her tone unusually urgent.

Rain obeyed, her entire body frozen as the sensation intensified—a tingling heat first, then an almost unbearable prickling, like thousands of needles piercing through the skin. She clenched her teeth, suppressing a pained cry. The others could only watch as the bandages bulged, shifting unnaturally.

"It's moving," Marisa said, her voice low and edged with unease.

The cloth began to unravel of its own accord, as if the box's magic rejected its confinement. Layer by layer, the wrappings fell away, revealing pale skin beneath. A faint glow pulsed along Rain's shoulder as sinews, muscles, and bones visibly began to reconstruct themselves.

Rain stared, her eyes widening as she saw her arm regrow—flesh knitting itself together in a seamless dance of renewal. The pain ebbed, replaced by a cooling relief that spread through her body. Her fingertips emerged last, pale but whole, flexing slightly as if testing their newfound existence.

"It's… back," Rain whispered, her voice trembling, a mix of disbelief and awe.

Her gaze fell to her torso next, where cuts and scratches that had once marred her skin now vanished, leaving behind only smooth, unblemished flesh. The exhaustion that had weighed her down since the battle melted away.

Reimu stepped closer, her mouth slightly open as she took in the sight. "Fully healed… like it never happened," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "What kind of magic even—"

"—throws common sense out the window," Marisa interrupted, finishing Reimu's thought with a dry laugh, her hands resting on her hips. "Gensokyo, daze. We've really outdone ourselves this time."

Kasen's expression remained neutral, though her furrowed brow betrayed her thoughts. She approached Rain carefully, her eyes scanning the regrown arm and then Rain's face. "This is the box's power," she explained, though her voice carried a hint of unease. "It's meant to heal completely, but…"

Rain flexed her new arm experimentally, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I feel… incredible," she said, clenching and unclenching her fist. "It's like I was never hurt in the first place."

Reimu frowned, her gaze narrowing slightly. "Too incredible," she muttered, crossing her arms. "No one gets something this powerful without some kind of price. You're not feeling… anything strange?"

Rain shook her head, the earlier haze in her vision gone. "Nothing. I'm fine."

Marisa leaned forward, poking Rain's regrown arm with her finger, then whistling when she felt its firmness. "No scars, no soreness… It's like cheating!" she said with an amused grin, though there was a cautious edge to her tone. "Bet the Moriya Shrine'd love to get their hands on that box."

"Absolutely not," Kasen said firmly, holding the box closer to her chest. Her gaze didn't leave Rain, the weight of her concern unspoken but clear in her guarded expression.

As Rain stretched, rolling her shoulders to test the full range of motion, there was a brief flicker in her expression—something faint and fleeting, almost like a shadow. None of the others noticed, but Kasen's sharp eyes narrowed further. The Ibaraki Box of a Hundred Medicines had worked exactly as intended. The question lingering in the back of her mind was simple: At what cost?

As Rain flexed her newly regrown arm, a sudden dizziness swept over her. Her vision swam again, the world blurring and spinning. Her heart raced as a wave of warmth spread through her chest, making her feel unusually light. She swayed on her feet, blinking rapidly to try and clear her head.

"Something's… off," she murmured, her voice slurring slightly. Her senses felt heightened, yet distant at the same time. Her grip on reality seemed to waver as if she was being pulled in two different directions at once.

Kasen's eyes narrowed as she observed the change in Rain's behavior. She had expected side effects from the Ibaraki Box, but this wasn't what she had anticipated. "Rain?" she said softly, but the unsteadiness in the girl's movements only intensified as she swayed again.

Reimu noticed immediately. She straightened up, her posture shifting as she quickly took a step forward. "Rain, are you alright?" she asked, her voice suddenly filled with concern.

But it was already too late. Rain's face flushed a deep red, her pupils dilating with an almost giddy confusion. She giggled, the sound a little too high-pitched, and swayed to the side, clutching her regrown arm. "I feel… so good! Like everything's… just perfect!" Her words came out in a half-drawl, and her grin widened, an unmistakable look of drunkenness settling in.

Kasen blinked, her earlier concern shifting into shock. "No… this can't be…" She had seen some extreme reactions to the Ibaraki Box, but this was nothing like what she'd expected.

Marisa's eyes widened in realization as she took a step back. "Ah, crap, here we go again," she muttered under her breath, her hand reaching for the door.

Reimu shot her a sharp look, her arms crossing over her chest in a mix of exasperation and concern. "Oh no, you're not going anywhere," she snapped, stepping in front of Marisa as the door remained firmly shut. "You're staying for this disaster."

Marisa's shoulders slumped in resignation. "This is bad," she muttered, casting a glance back at Rain, who was now swaying and giggling, her demeanor bordering on flirtatious. "Really bad. I've got experience with this, Reimu. You don't know what you're getting into."

Reimu sighed, rubbing her temples. "Yeah, I'm starting to get that feeling."

Meanwhile, Rain stumbled toward Marisa, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Hey, Marisa," she cooed, her tone overly sweet. "You're so cute… Wanna—?"

Marisa quickly backed away, her hands up in mock defense. "Nope, nope, not today!"

But it was clear—the side effect had kicked in, and Rain's low alcohol tolerance was making this far worse than anyone had anticipated. The Ibaraki Box's intended healing had done far more than just restore her arm—it had unlocked the wild, chaotic, and far too flirtatious side of Rain that no one in the room had been looking forward to.

Rain's giggle echoed through the room, louder and more childlike than before. In one fluid motion, she reached out and grabbed Marisa by the waist, lifting her up with a surprising ease.

Marisa's eyes widened in shock. "Hey—what the heck?!" she yelped, flailing her arms as her feet dangled in the air.

Reimu froze, her eyes narrowing as she watched the scene unfold. She had a feeling this would happen, but seeing it in person was still a shock.

Kasen's brows furrowed as she observed the situation closely. There it is... the strength side effect, she noted silently. The box had not only healed Rain, it had temporarily granted her an unnerving level of physical power. Kasen could tell this wasn't just random strength—it was more pronounced than before, and it came with the wild, erratic energy Rain now exuded.

Rain, blissfully unaware of Marisa's discomfort, nuzzled her face into Marisa's side with an exaggerated purr, making soft, playful noises. "You smell so good, Marisa," she cooed, her voice syrupy sweet as she snuggled her cheek into the witch's shoulder.

Marisa's face turned an unnatural shade of red as she struggled in Rain's surprisingly strong grip. "C-come on, put me down!" she demanded, her voice cracking slightly. "This is—agh!"

Reimu crossed her arms, the corner of her mouth twitching as she watched the scene unfold. "This... is going to be a long night," she muttered, the familiar dread settling in as she witnessed Rain's drunken affection.

Marisa managed to push herself free from Rain's nuzzling, but not without some difficulty. She landed lightly on her feet, rubbing her shoulder where Rain had nuzzled her with too much enthusiasm. "Oh great, now we've got this again," she muttered, eyeing Rain warily. "Can't even get a break, huh?"

Rain giggled again, her grip loosening as she swayed on her feet, eyes half-lidded with a dopey grin. "Hehehe, you're so cute, Marisa..." she said, her voice dipping back into that flirtatious tone.

Kasen raised an eyebrow, still watching the spectacle, though her expression held a mix of amusement and concern. "If she keeps this up," she murmured, "I'll have to intervene before someone gets hurt."

Reimu sighed, rubbing her temples. "She's lucky she's still in one piece," she muttered, keeping her eyes on Rain, who was now playfully hopping in place, clearly enjoying herself at Marisa's expense.

Rain then turned to Reimu with a mischievous glint in her eyes, her drunken grin widening as she stumbled toward the shrine maiden. "Hehehe, Reimu..." she cooed, as if formulating a playful plan.

Before Reimu could react, Rain raised a hand and aimed for her midriff, positioning her lips just above the soft area of Reimu's stomach. With a sudden burst of air, she blew a loud, forceful raspberry against Reimu's skin. The noise was unmistakable—a comical and high-pitched ppbbbt—and it caught Reimu completely off guard.

Reimu's face instantly flushed a bright red as the unexpected sound echoed in her ears. The sensation was both funny and, to her dismay, incredibly ticklish. Her body jolted slightly, the reflexive giggle escaping her before she could stop it.

"Rain!" Reimu snapped, her hands instinctively going to her sides as she tried to hold back the laughter. The next moment, before she could recover, Rain's actions earned her a swift, hard whack to the back of the head.

Kasen raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the situation, but still slightly concerned by how much power Rain was putting into her antics. "That wasn't exactly what I had in mind for her recovery," Kasen muttered under her breath.

Marisa snickered at the scene, but her expression shifted to one of caution. "Yeah, I knew she was gonna get all... playful, but Reimu's gonna be real mad in a second if she keeps this up."

Reimu shot a glare at Rain, her annoyance mixed with a hint of surprise. "If you do that again, you're going to regret it!" she warned, though her hand was still twitching from the reflexive laughter she couldn't completely suppress.

Kasen watched the scene unfold, her gaze shifting between Rain, who was now giggling uncontrollably after Reimu's swift retaliation, and the other two women in the room. The playful chaos was undeniable, but as the minutes ticked by, it became increasingly clear that the physical side effects—at least the ones Kasen had feared—weren't going to show up.

She observed Rain, who was still full of energy, but her movements were uncoordinated and drunken rather than superhumanly strong. The box had worked as intended: Rain's arm was healed, and her body had regained its former state. As far as the side effects went, it seemed like the strength surge was the extent of it, with nothing further escalating.

Kasen relaxed, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Everything worked out in the end, she mused silently.

She glanced at Reimu and Marisa, both of whom were now attempting to corral Rain's antics while still bearing the brunt of her drunken mischief. Kasen's lips quirked up as she considered how much more troublesome things could have been.

"Well, looks like things are under control here," Kasen said with a slight chuckle. "You're going to need to survive the rest of the day with her like this, but I can leave now. I'm sure you can handle it from here."

Reimu and Marisa exchanged looks that spoke volumes. Reimu's expression was a mix of exasperation and acceptance, while Marisa seemed to be bracing herself for the worst.

Kasen, satisfied with her assessment, gave a small bow. "Good luck, you two. Just keep an eye on her."

And with that, Kasen took her leave, leaving Reimu and Marisa to face the rest of the day with their intoxicated friend—an ordeal that, judging by their weary expressions, was going to take every ounce of their patience.

As Kasen made her exit, Rain, still grinning from ear to ear, noticed Marisa's broom leaning casually against the wall. Her gaze locked onto it, and a spark of mischief flashed in her eyes. Without a second thought, she stumbled toward it, her drunken movements erratic but determined.

"Ooh, Marisa's broom!" she slurred, her voice gleeful as she grabbed hold of the broomstick. She tried to mount it, fumbling as she swung one leg over, only to slip and nearly fall off. She caught herself, a burst of giggles escaping her lips as she steadied herself.

Once she was upright—barely—Rain grinned proudly, gripping the broomstick with both hands. "I'm gonna fly just like Marisa!" she declared, though it was clear she had little idea what she was doing.

Marisa, who had just been about to step forward to stop her, froze. "Oh no..." she muttered, her face cringing in anticipation.

Rain wobbled unsteadily, holding onto the broom as if it were the most natural thing in the world. With a sudden, exaggerated motion, she kicked off the ground, causing the broom to tilt awkwardly beneath her. She bobbed up and down in an uncoordinated mock flight, making whooshing sounds with each jerk.

"Wooooosh!" Rain exclaimed, her face lit up in delight as she tried to mimic Marisa's usual confident flying posture, though it ended up more like a dizzy, out-of-control ride. She spun in circles, giggling louder, completely oblivious to how absurd she looked.

Reimu watched, her face falling into her palms as she groaned. "This is really not good..."

Marisa, on the other hand, rubbed the back of her neck with an exasperated sigh. "Ah, great. She's gonna break the broom, isn't she?"

Rain, in her giddy state, tried to lean back dramatically, as if to show off some kind of skill. But the broom jerked, and she nearly toppled over before catching herself again, sending more giggles into the air.

"Woooosh! WooOOOosh!" Rain laughed, her voice getting higher with excitement.

Marisa narrowed her eyes, bracing herself for whatever ridiculous thing would happen next. "Yeah, she's definitely gonna break it... if she doesn't break herself first."

Reimu sighed again, shaking her head. "At least she's not causing any real trouble... yet."

As Rain wobbled off the broom, her eyes landed on a stack of scrolls that had been left neatly on a nearby table. She blinked, her attention shifting to the curious bundle. It was the same set of scrolls that Hecatia had given her before they parted after the fight—a parting gift, though no one had any idea what they were for.

With a sudden burst of inspiration, Rain staggered toward the scrolls, her fingers already reaching out to grab one. "Hmm... I think I wanna write on these," she murmured, her voice thick with drunken intent.

Reimu and Marisa exchanged confused glances. "What...?" Reimu began, but she was interrupted by Marisa's quick intervention.

"Uh, hey, wait a second!" Marisa said, stepping forward with a sly grin. "You can't just start writing on them like that, who knows what kind of weird thing will happen!"

But Rain was already unrolling one of the scrolls, squinting at the blank parchment. "I want to write on it! Maybe it's something fun!" she giggled, her vision blurring slightly as she tried to steady herself.

Marisa sighed, knowing that it wasn't the time to try and stop her completely. Instead, she offered a compromise. "Alright, alright. I'll write for you, since you're too far gone to think straight," she said, grabbing a nearby ink brush.

Rain raised an eyebrow, still swaying slightly as she held the scroll. "What should you write?" she asked, a playful curiosity in her voice.

Marisa pondered for a moment, tapping her chin with the brush. "Hmm... let's see… something fun... maybe a name," she muttered under her breath, before her eyes narrowed mischievously. "I know! How about Tenshi Hinanawi?"

Rain blinked. "Who's that?"

Marisa shrugged nonchalantly. "Just some brat celestial that always seems to get in the way. Could be funny."

Rain giggled and nodded, already mesmerized by the idea. "Tenshi! Hehehe, Tenshi!" she repeated to herself, as if testing the name out loud.

"Yeah, yeah, and then... I dunno, maybe I should add 'Sucks' at the end?" Marisa suggested with a sly grin.

Rain paused, squinting at the scroll as she tried to make sense of Marisa's words. "Sucks... and a number one?" she repeated, a gleeful giggle escaping her lips.

Marisa nodded eagerly, entirely unbothered by the absurdity of it all. "Sure, why not? I'll write that down, we'll see what happens."

So, Marisa carefully scribbled "Tenshi Sucks 1" onto the scroll, her face grinning as she completed the task.

And that's when things took a sudden, unexpected turn.

The moment the last stroke of ink touched the paper, the scroll flared up with brilliant orange flames. Marisa and Reimu froze in shock, their eyes widening as the fire consumed the parchment. The scroll disintegrated into ash within seconds, leaving no trace of the ink, no mark of the characters—nothing.

Reimu blinked, unsure of what just happened. "What... what was that?" she asked, her tone full of confusion and concern.

Marisa, on the other hand, looked completely unfazed. She let out a long, drawn-out sigh, her hand resting on her hip. "Huh. Guess that was a spell scroll. Guess I shouldn't have let her write that on it."

Reimu shot her a look, her confusion turning into frustration. "Marisa, why are you so calm about this?!"

Marisa shrugged, giving the scroll pile a casual glance. "It's just a scroll. Whatever it did, it's gone now. Nothing we can do about it. Besides, I didn't write anything. She did."

Reimu pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering under her breath. "Of course, I'm the one who has to deal with this..."

Rain, still drunk and completely oblivious, giggled again. "Hehehe, Tenshi... funny name..." She trailed off as she stumbled over to the table again, her thoughts already drifting to whatever ridiculous idea came next.

As Rain stumbled toward the table, still giggling to herself, her movements were erratic, her drunken energy impossible to contain. She placed both hands down on the edge of the table, leaning forward as if to steady herself.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" she giggled, but before anyone could react, a sudden burst of strength surged through her. Without realizing it, she pushed down too hard, the force of her touch splintering the wooden table with an audible crack. The table buckled under the pressure, splitting cleanly in half.

Reimu and Marisa froze, their eyes wide in disbelief, while Rain continued to grin, completely unaware of the damage she'd caused. She looked at the two halves of the table, her expression blank for a moment. "Oops?" she slurred, giggling in that way only a completely drunk person could.

Marisa was the first to snap out of it, her face an odd mix of exasperation and disbelief. "Great, just great... now we have a broken table on top of everything else..." she muttered, rubbing her forehead.

Reimu, who had been bracing herself for something like this, gave a tired sigh. "I can't... I can't even." She shook her head, looking between the destroyed table and the still-grinning Rain. "We really need to get her back to normal before she breaks something else."

Rain, however, seemed entirely content with the situation. She started inspecting the broken table, her hands running over the edges of the split wood. "Huh... this feels kinda cool, doesn't it?" she mused, leaning down to get a closer look at the broken pieces.

Marisa and Reimu exchanged a glance, silently acknowledging that the situation was rapidly spiraling out of control. "Well," Marisa said after a beat, "I guess it could've been worse."

Reimu shot her a look. "Could've been worse? Marisa, she's drunk and breaking everything she touches!"

Marisa just shrugged. "Eh, at least she's not breaking anything important... yet."

Rain, still oblivious, sat down beside the broken table, her hands still running over the pieces like she was admiring a work of art. "I think I'm a bit too strong, huh?" she giggled to herself, her voice light and carefree.

The two girls sighed in unison. The day was far from over, and with their drunken friend now unintentionally destroying everything in her path, they were in for one wild ride.

Marisa's nonchalant tone lingered in the air, but then a sudden realization struck her, and she turned sharply to Reimu.

"Wait, wait… it could've been worse!" Marisa's eyes widened as she quickly processed the situation. "Imagine if it was the donation box she just broke!"

Reimu's expression immediately shifted from weary annoyance to pure panic. Her eyes went wide, and she gasped, as if the very thought of it could send her into a frenzy. "Oh no! The donation box!"

Her voice rose as she clutched her chest in horror. "That's where all the donations come from! Do you have any idea how much effort goes into keeping that thing intact?! What if—"

Before she could finish her thought, she visibly started to hyperventilate at the imagined disaster. The worry was written all over her face, and her hands instinctively started to reach out as if she might have to run out the door at any second.

Marisa, watching her, raised an eyebrow. "Reimu, we're inside, and the donation box is still in one piece. You know that, right?"

Reimu blinked and snapped back to the present, her panic suddenly dissipating as she realized Marisa was right. She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. "Right… right, I'm being ridiculous."

But the color was still drained from her face as she sank down into a seat, wiping her forehead. "That box… it's a sacred thing."

Marisa leaned back, smirking. "Yeah, I figured. That thing's practically your whole livelihood. Wouldn't wanna see you break down over it."

Reimu just groaned, leaning back in her chair. "I swear… nothing is ever easy with you two around."

As Reimu and Marisa continued their argument about the broken table and the near-catastrophe with the donation box, Rain quietly slipped away from the chaos. Unnoticed, she crept out the door and into the evening air, the faint orange glow of sunset beginning to dip beneath the horizon. The cool evening breeze caressed her skin as she wandered, her footsteps light and unsteady.

Meanwhile, the peaceful quiet of the shrine was interrupted by the sound of wings cutting through the air. A figure descended gracefully from the sky, her silhouette outlined by the dimming light. It was Sanae Kochiya, another shrine maiden, her green hair fluttering behind her as she landed softly on the ground in front of the shrine.

Her eyes scanned the area with a welcoming gaze, but as she looked around for familiar faces, she paused, her brow furrowing slightly. There was something different about the atmosphere today, but she couldn't place it. She didn't recognize Rain, who stood off to the side, her posture relaxed but distant, her expression unreadable in the growing darkness.

Sanae landed, taking in the sight of the shrine with a thoughtful gaze, unaware that the figure she glimpsed from afar was someone she had met before—someone now nearly unrecognizable.

Sanae approached the shrine, her voice cheerful despite the twilight setting. "Hello! Is Reimu around?" she called out, her eyes scanning the area.

Rain, who had been standing off to the side, swaying slightly on her feet, heard the voice and immediately recognized it. A slow grin spread across her face, but it wasn't a welcoming one. Her gaze sharpened, and a feeling of rivalry stirred within her, ignited by the mention of Reimu's name.

"Reimu, huh?" Rain slurred, her voice low and rough. She stepped forward, crossing her arms over her chest as her posture became more hostile. She was clearly in a drunken stupor, but the effects of the Ibaraki Box had brought out a side of her that was far more aggressive than usual.

"You're the one Reimu's always fussin' with, huh? The other shrine maiden, right?" Rain's voice was harsh, dripping with the kind of venom that an oni would use when speaking to someone they didn't care for. "Yeah, I know who you are, miss 'rival in faith.'"

She took a few unsteady steps closer to Sanae, her expression shifting into one of disdain. "What, you think you can just waltz in here and ask for her? Well, news flash, cowgirl, she's probably too busy for you." Rain spat the words with the rough edge of someone who didn't care much for polite conversation.

Sanae blinked, taken aback by the tone, clearly surprised by the hostility from a stranger—one who didn't seem to be in her right mind. But there was something about the way the other girl spoke, something about the energy surrounding her, that hinted at more than just a simple drunk rant.

Rain, still swaying, took another step closer, getting into Sanae's personal space. "You really don't know when to quit, do you? Always hangin' around Reimu like a bad smell." She gave a derisive snort, her words laced with bitterness and the defiance of someone used to being feared. "Maybe you should just scram, 'fore I get more annoyed with ya."

Her drunken aggression was now on full display, the temper of an oni fueling every word she spoke, and every movement she made.

Sanae tilted her head, confusion flickering in her emerald eyes as she tried to make sense of Rain's sudden aggression. "Uh... excuse me? Do I know you?" she asked cautiously, her voice faltering slightly.

Rain's brow twitched at the question, her patience—or what little remained of it—snapping like a twig. "Tch, you really don't know, huh?" she muttered, her tone dripping with annoyance. Without another word, she raised her hand and delivered a sharp, open-palmed slap to Sanae's cheek.

The force of the slap sent Sanae comically tumbling backward, her green hair flying in all directions before she landed on her rear with a loud thud.

Rain threw her head back and laughed, the sound loud and uninhibited, like the drunken bellow of a seasoned oni. "That's what ya get for bein' so clueless!" she hollered, her voice carrying through the evening air.

As Sanae sat there, rubbing her stinging cheek, a memory surfaced—a time when Marisa had been in a similar drunken state and had slapped her in a nearly identical manner. The vivid image of Marisa's mischievous grin and the sting of her hand flashed through her mind.

"Not again," Sanae muttered under her breath, groaning as she tried to process her current situation.

Meanwhile, inside the shrine, Marisa and Reimu's conversation was abruptly interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a commotion outside. They exchanged startled glances, and Reimu's heart sank.

"Wait... where's Rain?" Reimu asked, a growing sense of dread in her voice as she glanced around and realized the drunken oni had disappeared.

Marisa slapped her forehead, groaning. "Aw, crap. She slipped out, didn't she?"

The two rushed to the door, panic rising as they flung it open and spotted Rain outside, towering over a stunned Sanae. Reimu froze in shock, while Marisa's face twisted into a mix of horror and disbelief.

Marisa stared at the scene, her mouth slightly agape. For a brief moment, a pang of déjà vu hit her like a lightning bolt. "This... feels way too familiar," she muttered, her voice low as she recalled a very similar drunken altercation she'd caused in the past.

Reimu, however, was not interested in reminiscing. Her eyes darted between Rain and Sanae, her frustration bubbling over. "Rain!" she yelled, stomping toward the scene. "What do you think you're doing?!"

As Rain continued to laugh, the sound of her wild, drunken amusement echoing into the cool evening air, something strange began to happen. From her regenerated left arm, a chain of jagged, thick metal links seemed to manifest, twisting around her bicep like a coil of powerful energy. It moved, almost alive, like a manifestation of pure strength. The chain rattled as it slithered across her skin, gleaming with a dark aura.

Kasen's words from earlier came rushing back, a lingering warning that echoed in the back of Reimu's mind: a physical change. This was no ordinary healing. This was the start of Rain's transformation, a sign that she might be slowly becoming a real oni—one of immense power, but also one of dangerous instability. Kasen had thought it was fine, had left assuming the worst was over... but now, it seemed, it was only beginning.

Reimu's gaze shifted from the scene before her, where Rain stood hunched and laughing, to the newly manifested chain. Her stomach dropped. The unsettling thought that Rain might truly be slipping into something more monstrous loomed over her. Her fingers tightened into fists. If that change continued, Reimu knew it could lead to a disaster—one where she'd have no choice but to exterminate her friend, something she'd rather not even think about.

But Reimu refused to give up just yet. It has to be temporary, she thought, trying to hold onto the hope that whatever was happening could be reversed or contained. She had to believe that.

As she was lost in her thoughts, Rain's laughter began to slow. Her body swayed even more, the drunken stupor now taking full hold. The chain that had manifested around her left arm seemed to recede into the skin, as if exhausted by its sudden appearance. Slowly, Rain's posture slackened, and she stumbled, her steps uncoordinated.

Finally, with an almost comical lack of grace, she flopped onto the ground, her body going limp. She lay there, sprawled out in the dirt, her breathing labored as the weight of the alcohol and the physical toll of her transformation took their toll.

Reimu and Marisa could only watch as Rain lay there, completely drained, a heavy silence falling over them. Reimu's frown deepened. This was not just a moment of drunken folly; this was something far more troubling.

"Great," Marisa muttered, kneeling beside Rain with a sigh. "Guess we've got a whole lot of mess to clean up now."

But Reimu's gaze lingered on Rain's unconscious form, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts. How long could this last? Would she be able to stop Rain's transformation before it was too late?

Sanae slowly picked herself up from the ground, still rubbing her cheek where Rain's slap had landed. She glanced between the two of them—Reimu and Marisa—before narrowing her eyes at Rain, who was now lying still on the ground. Her confusion only grew as she stood there, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

"Um… what's going on here?" she asked, her voice a mix of concern and bewilderment. She eyed Rain carefully, still unsure of who she was dealing with, but sensing something was off. "Who is this...?"

Reimu's frown deepened, but she forced a tight smile, trying to maintain some sense of control over the situation. She didn't want to explain Rain's condition to Sanae—especially with her altered appearance, and the fact that Sanae didn't even recognize her as Rain. Reimu gave a light, yet firm, wave of her hand to gently shoo her away. "It's nothing you need to worry about right now," she said, her tone more dismissive than she intended. "Just go on back to your shrine, okay? Everything's fine here."

Sanae paused, clearly not satisfied with the answer but willing to hold off for now. She eyed the situation one more time—Reimu and Marisa were acting a little... strange, and there was something unsettling about Rain's limp form on the ground—but she dismissed her concerns. She had a mission.

"Right…" Sanae sighed and straightened up, brushing off the dirt from her clothes. Then, with a sudden spark of realization, she smiled brightly. "Oh! I just remembered—when I met Rain before, she agreed to join me for a tour of the Moriya Shrine. I came by to see if she's still up for it. It's been a while, after all. Thought I'd double-check with her about it."

She glanced down at the unconscious form of Rain, not recognizing her as the same person she had met previously. For all she knew, the woman on the ground was a stranger.

Reimu's expression faltered as she stared at Sanae. She had no idea how to respond to that—how could she explain to her that the one she was talking about was Rain, when Rain was currently unconscious and looking like a completely different person? Reimu opened her mouth to speak, but paused, unsure of how to play it off.

Marisa, on the other hand, had already started to laugh quietly to herself. She couldn't help it; the whole situation was absurd.

Reimu sighed, clearly trying to steer the conversation in a safer direction. She gave Sanae a curt nod, her expression still somewhat tense. "She's just asleep," Reimu said, waving her hand in a dismissive motion. "I'll pass the message along to her. But..."

She looked Sanae in the eye, her voice dropping a little lower as a warning. "Don't go preaching your faith to her. She's been through a lot, and I'm the one who took her in first. Let's keep it friendly, alright?"

Sanae blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sharpness in Reimu's tone. She was about to respond, but Reimu's intense gaze left little room for argument. Slowly, Sanae nodded, understanding the message without needing it to be spelled out.

"Understood," she said, her tone a little more subdued now. "I'll just leave you to it, then. I hope she's okay."

With that, Sanae gave a polite bow before turning to leave, her steps quiet as she flew off toward the Moriya Shrine. Reimu watched her go, her eyes lingering on the retreating figure for a moment before returning to the scene in front of her—Rain still sprawled out on the ground, the weight of the situation settling heavily on her shoulders.

Marisa, having watched the exchange between Reimu and Sanae with a mix of amusement and concern, raised an eyebrow as she looked down at Rain, still sprawled out on the floor. She crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently.

"So," she began, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips, "who's gonna carry her?"

She shot Reimu a glance, as if the answer was obvious. "I mean, it's not like she's gonna wake up anytime soon, and I'm not exactly in the mood to haul her around. You did say you took her in first, after all." Marisa's tone was lighthearted, but there was a subtle hint of exasperation beneath it—this was definitely a situation she'd rather not be in.

Reimu shot Marisa a pointed look, clearly not in the mood for her teasing. "If you're not helping, then go home," Reimu said, her voice a little sharper than usual. "It's getting dark, and I'm sure you've got plenty of other things to do."

Marisa raised her hands in mock surrender, chuckling to herself. "Okay, jeez, I'm helping," she replied, shaking her head with a grin. She stepped over to Rain, ready to pick her up, though her exaggerated sigh hinted at how much she wasn't looking forward to it.

"Can't believe I'm doing this again," Marisa muttered, but she crouched down to lift Rain, her arms steadying the unconscious form as she grumbled, "Shouldn't be too bad… I think."

As Marisa carefully lifted Rain, she noticed something unexpected. The way Rain's body pressed against hers felt... different. Marisa's brow furrowed, and she glanced down, her eyes widening slightly as she realized the change.

"Wait a minute..." Marisa muttered under her breath, her gaze flicking to Rain's altered form. She hadn't really noticed it before, but now that she was holding her, it was clear—Rain's chest seemed... noticeably bigger than it used to be.

Marisa blinked, then shrugged with a smirk. "Well, guess she's got a bit more going on now," she said, trying to ignore the awkwardness of the situation as she adjusted Rain's position. "Couldn't hurt to have a little extra padding when carrying someone around, huh?"

She grumbled slightly, though there was a bemused look in her eyes as she carefully balanced Rain, trying to make sure the situation didn't get any more uncomfortable than it already was.

Reimu, who had been watching Marisa with her usual unamused expression, raised an eyebrow at her muttered words. A smirk slowly spread across her face as she leaned against the shrine doorframe.

"How can you compare?" she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Would that mean you got a feel for both her usual body and... this one?"

Her gaze flickered to Marisa, mischief gleaming in her eyes as she folded her arms across her chest. "You seem awfully familiar with her... new 'features.'"

Marisa's face flushed with surprise and annoyance, and she quickly adjusted Rain in her arms, trying to deflect the situation. "N-No, I'm just—shut up, Reimu!" she sputtered, clearly flustered. "I'm not comparing anything! Just... don't make it weird!"

Reimu chuckled to herself, clearly enjoying the moment of teasing. "Of course, Marisa. Just making sure you're paying attention."

Marisa grumbled, trying to ignore Reimu's teasing as she adjusted Rain in her arms once again, clearly flustered. "I'm not paying that much attention, alright?" she muttered, her tone defensive. She glanced at Reimu, then back at Rain, and let out a long sigh. "This is just... ridiculous."

Reimu's smirk didn't waver, clearly enjoying the discomfort she was causing. "Uh-huh. Sure, sure," she said, her voice dripping with amusement. "Just carrying her because you're such a helpful friend."

Marisa shot Reimu an irritated look but didn't say anything more. The situation was awkward enough without making it worse. "You're a real pain," Marisa muttered under her breath, her focus now solely on making sure she didn't drop Rain.

Reimu chuckled lightly, pushing herself off the doorframe. "Anyway, I'll help you get her inside," she said, stepping closer. "But I'm not carrying her."

Marisa let out another grumble as she continued to balance Rain in her arms, still clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "Yeah, thanks for the help, Reimu," she muttered dryly, her patience wearing thin.

Reimu simply shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes. "You're welcome, I guess."

Marisa trudged toward the inner room with Rain in her arms, her grumbling continuing under her breath. "I swear, if she remembers any of this when she wakes up, I'm gonna deny everything," she muttered, her voice barely audible.

Reimu followed behind her, arms folded and still thoroughly entertained. "You act like you're carrying a sack of rice instead of your friend," she quipped, the smirk on her face growing wider. "You know, maybe all this awkwardness is because you are paying attention to things you shouldn't."

Marisa stopped in her tracks, turning her head just enough to shoot Reimu a glare. "Do you ever stop?" she snapped, her cheeks flushed as she tightened her grip on Rain. "I'm doing you a favor here, y'know. I could've just left her with you."

Reimu held up her hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I'll stop," she said, though her tone made it clear she was far from sincere. "I mean, you're already doing such a great job on your own. Carrying her and getting flustered? It's impressive."

Marisa rolled her eyes and muttered something unintelligible as she carefully set Rain down on a futon. The unconscious woman let out a small murmur and shifted slightly, but she didn't wake up. Marisa stood up straight, brushing off her skirt and sighing. "There. Happy now?" she asked, glancing at Reimu.

Reimu tilted her head, pretending to think for a moment. "I don't know," she said, tapping her chin. "Are you done blushing?"

Marisa groaned, throwing her hat back on her head with an exaggerated flourish. "That's it. I'm going home after this."

Reimu chuckled, clearly satisfied. "Sure you are. But knowing you, you'll probably come back tomorrow just to check on her."

Marisa opened her mouth to retort but closed it again, realizing she didn't have a good comeback. Instead, she crossed her arms and turned toward the door. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't let her destroy anything else while she's out, alright?"

Reimu gave her a noncommittal wave, her attention shifting to Rain. "I'll do my best. No promises, though."

Marisa paused at the doorway, glancing back at the scene: Rain sprawled out on the futon, her newly regenerated arm hanging over the edge, and Reimu sitting nearby with a contemplative expression. The sight should've been comforting, but instead, it just filled her with unease.

"Seriously," Marisa said, her voice softer now. "Keep an eye on her, alright? She's... different now, and not just 'cause of the arm or the chains."

Reimu looked up at Marisa, her teasing demeanor momentarily replaced with a more serious expression. "I know," she said quietly. "She's got a lot going on. But I'll keep her safe. You know I will."

Marisa hesitated for a moment longer, then nodded. "Alright. I'm countin' on you," she said before stepping out into the cool evening air. The faint rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets greeted her as she adjusted her hat and mounted her broom. With one last glance back at the shrine, she muttered, "Don't let her wreck the place too bad, Reimu," before flying off into the darkening sky.

Inside, Reimu let out a sigh, leaning back and resting her elbows on the floor as she looked at Rain. "You really know how to make things complicated, don't you?" she murmured to the unconscious woman.

Rain shifted slightly, her lips curling into a faint, dreamy smile as if she was enjoying a particularly good nap. Reimu snorted, shaking her head. "You better wake up without causing more trouble," she muttered. "I've already had enough for one day."

She glanced at the damaged table and the remnants of the chaos Rain had caused earlier, rubbing her temples. "Why do I even bother..."

As the moonlight spilled through the paper windows of the shrine, illuminating the quiet room, Reimu finally allowed herself a moment of calm. Despite everything, Rain was here, alive, and—mostly—fine. For now, that was enough.

The hours passed slowly in the quiet of the shrine. The warm hues of sunset faded into the cool blues of night, the sounds of evening settling over the Hakurei Shrine. Crickets chirped outside, their rhythmic cadence underscoring the occasional crackle from the shrine's hearth.

Reimu sat cross-legged by the futon where Rain lay, her head resting on her hand. A teacup sat nearby, untouched for some time, as her thoughts wandered. Her gaze drifted between the night sky visible through the open shoji door and Rain's sleeping form. Despite the calm surroundings, Rain's rest was anything but peaceful.

It started with small movements: her fingers twitching, her brow furrowing. Rain's breathing became uneven, shallow at first, then quickened as if she were running from something in her dreams. Her lips trembled, and faint words began to spill out, fractured and fragile.

"Am... sorry... am weak..." she murmured, her voice tight with a pain that seemed more emotional than physical. Her face contorted further, tears slipping down the side of her face as she turned her head restlessly against the futon. "No... don't leave... please..."

Reimu's posture stiffened at the sound, her eyes narrowing in concern. The confident, chaotic woman from earlier was nowhere to be seen in this vulnerable moment. Instead, Rain's expression was etched with raw anguish: her tightly shut eyes and trembling lips betraying a deep, unspoken fear.

For a moment, Reimu hesitated, her hand hovering mid-air. This side of Rain—so broken, so fragile—was one she rarely saw, and it caught her off guard. Yet the cries tugged at her heart, stirring something that overpowered her reluctance.

Finally, with a soft sigh, she reached out and clasped Rain's hand in hers. Her touch was firm but gentle, an anchor against whatever storm raged in Rain's mind. "It's okay," Reimu murmured softly, her thumb brushing over Rain's knuckles. "You're not weak, and I'm not going anywhere. You're safe here."

At first, Rain didn't respond, her movements jerky and strained. But gradually, as the warmth of Reimu's hand seemed to seep into her, her trembling eased. Her breathing slowed, her furrowed brow smoothed, and the faintest hint of calm returned to her face.

Reimu stayed there, her hand never letting go. Her eyes lingered on Rain's now peaceful expression, a flicker of guilt passing through her. For all the teasing and bickering, Reimu couldn't deny that she cared deeply for her friend. Rain had endured so much, carried burdens she rarely spoke of, and yet she still found ways to smile, even if it was often a mask.

"You're stronger than you think," Reimu whispered, her voice barely audible over the chirping crickets outside. A faint smile touched her lips as she settled more comfortably by Rain's side, unwilling to move until she was sure her friend wouldn't be haunted again.

The shrine grew silent once more, the night deepening as the stars shone brighter overhead. For the first time in hours, the atmosphere felt truly peaceful.

The night at the Hakurei Shrine passed in quiet stillness after Rain's troubled dreams subsided. The soft light of the moon had bathed the room, casting long shadows across the floorboards, and the steady symphony of crickets had lulled the shrine into peaceful silence. Hours melted into the stillness of dawn, as the first faint light of morning crept over the horizon.

Reimu had remained by Rain's side for a long while before eventually retreating to her own futon. She rose with the first rays of sunlight, her well-practiced routine guiding her through morning chores. The sound of her broom against the veranda and the rustling of leaves as she swept outside blended with the waking sounds of nature. Morning dew clung to the grass, and the air was cool and crisp, carrying the subtle scent of the forest beyond the shrine grounds.

Inside, the shrine's interior was quiet, save for the soft breathing of Rain as she stirred in her sleep. Gradually, her eyes fluttered open, the golden light of morning filtering through the cracks in the shoji doors. She groaned softly, her hand instinctively moving to her forehead. A dull ache pounded at her temples, each throb making her squint against the brightness of the room.

"What... happened last night?" she muttered groggily, her voice hoarse. She winced as she tried to sit up, her movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Her memories were fuzzy, fragments of vague laughter and chaos slipping through her mental grasp like sand through her fingers.

As she rubbed her eyes, a jarring realization struck her. Her left arm— her arm—felt solid, present, alive. Her breath hitched as she raised it slowly, flexing her fingers in disbelief. The sensation was surreal, as if she were rediscovering a part of herself. "It's... back," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, a mix of awe and disbelief.

But as she moved, an unfamiliar sound accompanied her movements—a faint metallic clink. She froze. Slowly, Rain shifted her gaze toward her left arm. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight that greeted her.

Chains.

Broken chains, their shattered links dangling from sturdy manacles that circled her wrist and forearm, glinted faintly in the morning light. They swayed gently with her movements, their weight unfamiliar but undeniable. Her stomach tightened as her eyes widened, and she instinctively recoiled, scooting back on the futon.

"What the hell?" she breathed, her voice sharp with alarm. Her pulse quickened as she reached out with her right hand to touch the chains, as if to confirm they were real. The cold, rough texture of the metal sent a chill up her spine. She gave the chains an experimental tug, but they remained firmly bound to her arm, their presence immutable.

Her mind raced with questions she couldn't begin to answer. How did these get here? Why are they attached to me? What does this mean?

The clinking noise echoed again as she shifted, and her discomfort deepened. Her head swam, the headache from earlier now amplified by the flood of anxiety coursing through her. She ran a hand through her short hair, trying to steady her breathing.

From outside, the faint sounds of Reimu sweeping reached her ears, grounding her in the present. Rain's gaze flickered toward the shoji door. Reimu was just outside—she could feel it. But something held her back from calling out immediately, a strange reluctance to reveal what she'd found.

Instead, she stared at the chains again, the metallic links catching the morning light, mocking her with their silent presence.

As Rain stared at the chains wrapped around her regenerated arm, her thoughts spiraled back to the conversation she'd had with Kasen Ibaraki, just before the healing potion had taken effect.

"The Ibaraki Box of a Hundred Medicines," Kasen had explained, her voice steady yet laden with that ever-present wisdom she seemed to carry. "It will heal you, no matter the injury. But there are side effects. If your body is truly healed—if it's not just a temporary fix—then the changes could be more than physical. You might start becoming more like an Oni, not just in personality, but in body too. The effect could be permanent or it could fade away with time. But... it's something you need to be prepared for."

The memory of Kasen's words echoed in Rain's mind like a distant warning. Her heart fluttered with a mix of unease and curiosity. It was clear now that the box's power had done more than just heal her missing arm. But this? The chains? The undeniable feeling that something inside of her was shifting?

She chuckled nervously to herself, though there was little humor to be found in her voice. "Well, I guess there's no horns growing yet, at least," she muttered, a wry smile flickering on her lips, though the uncertainty still lingered beneath the surface.

She could feel the weight of the chains as they swayed gently with her movements. Her fingers trembled slightly as she touched them again, the cold metal sending a shiver up her spine. Her mind raced—was this a sign of the transformation Kasen had warned her about? If it was temporary, how much time did she have before it fully settled into her body, or worse, became permanent?

The thought of herself turning into something like an Oni—something monstrous, wild, and untamable—sent a chill down her spine. She wasn't sure if she could handle that. Not again, she thought bitterly. She had already been through so much, so many changes, both physical and mental. The thought of becoming something other than what she was already unsettled her, made her feel like she was losing control over her own identity.

But despite the growing unease, she straightened her back, shaking off the weight of doubt. This is temporary, she told herself. It has to be. The very notion of turning into an Oni, of permanently losing herself to these changes, was something she couldn't accept—not yet. She had to keep her head straight.

At least for now, she was still Rain. No matter what came next, she couldn't forget that.

Taking a deep breath, she glanced down at the chains again, her resolve hardening. "Alright, let's not freak out just yet. I can handle this. Temporary, right? Just gotta wait it out."

She sat up straighter, her gaze firm now. It's just a phase. Whatever's going on here, I can control it.

For now, though, the chains remained—like a constant reminder that things weren't as simple as she wished they were. But she wasn't going to let it define her. At least not yet.

Rain stood up, her mind racing as she steadied herself. The chains clinked against her arm as she moved, and she couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that something in her body had fundamentally changed. She was bracing herself for whatever came next, determined to face it head-on.

With a deep breath, she walked toward the door, pushing it open. But as her hand gripped the door handle and she applied just the slightest amount of force, she was met with an unexpected result. The door, which had always creaked slightly when opened, flew off its hinges and slammed into the wall with an ear-splitting crash.

The wood splintered into pieces, and the frame itself buckled as if it had been struck by a battering ram. The remnants of the door lay scattered in a heap on the ground, broken beyond recognition.

Rain blinked, momentarily stunned by the sheer force that had erupted from her. 'Did I do that?' She looked at her hand, half-expecting to see something monstrous, something that reflected the power she'd just unleashed.

From outside, Reimu's voice rang out, alarmed. "What the—?!"

She stood there, staring at the destruction, her expression a mix of disbelief and frustration. Her hands went to her hips as she let out a deep sigh. "Rain… I don't know what kind of strength you've got now, but this is too much! Your usual strength was already trouble, but this? At this rate, my shrine's gonna get destroyed by you!" She waved her hand at the wreckage of the door, the weight of the situation sinking in.

Reimu's tone was both exasperated and concerned. She knew Rain had always been strong, but this? It was on a whole other level. The force behind it was immense, as though Rain could lift a boulder without breaking a sweat. But now? She could probably punch a hole in a mountain if she wanted to.

Rain, for her part, stood there for a moment, wide-eyed, as if she were trying to process what had just happened. "Uh... Whoops?" She scratched her head sheepishly.

Rain stood there for a moment, processing the wreckage she'd just caused. Her expression flickered between sheepishness and a trace of embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she said with a quick glance at Reimu. "I didn't mean to... break the door like that. I'll help fix it, though."

Reimu's eyes narrowed as she surveyed the destruction. The door was beyond salvaging, and the whole situation was a bit much for her to handle. With an exaggerated sigh, she planted her hands on her hips. "You're on a time-out. I can't trust you not to break things again right now, so stay here and don't do anything else until I figure out what to do with you."

Rain felt a bit like she was being treated like a child, and it showed in her expression. Her lip jutted out into a pout, her brows furrowing in exaggerated frustration. She was a grown woman, and now she was being scolded like she was a misbehaving kid.

"Come on, Reimu," she grumbled, crossing her arms in protest. "I'm not a child! I just got... carried away. Can I at least walk around? Go outside, maybe?"

Reimu shook her head firmly, though the annoyance was tempered with a hint of affection for her erratic friend. "Not until I or Marisa are supervising you. You're not going anywhere unless we're right there to make sure you don't accidentally flatten the entire shrine or anyone at this point."

Rain's pout deepened, and she slumped slightly, clearly put off by the restriction. To anyone watching the scene—perhaps a passerby who caught a glimpse through the shattered doorway—it would have been quite a sight. The tall, broad-shouldered woman, easily towering over Reimu and Marisa, was being scolded and treated like a child. The contrast was almost comical. Here was a force of nature who could probably obliterate anything in her path, and yet, she was being lectured like a toddler caught in the act of mischief.

Rain muttered under her breath, "This is ridiculous…" But her voice carried none of the real malice; it was more of a sulking remark. She had learned over her stay that Reimu, for all her bluntness, always meant well, even if it was frustrating in moments like these.

As the conversation dragged on, the sound of familiar broom-propelled wind whooshed closer. Marisa Kirisame arrived on cue, floating down effortlessly with her broom, her trademark grin firmly in place. She didn't even need to step inside to notice the destruction; the gaping hole where the door once stood was enough of a statement.

"Whoa!" she exclaimed, hovering just outside. "What happened here? Did Rain try arm-wrestling the door or something?"

Rain crossed her arms, her lips pressing into a pout as her cheeks turned slightly red. "It was an accident," she muttered defensively.

Reimu, still standing near Rain, gestured toward the damage with a tired look on her face. "Perfect timing. Rain's going stir-crazy, so I need you to take her out for a walk."

Marisa froze mid-dismount, one leg over her broom, before hopping down and setting it upright against the shrine wall. She pointed a thumb at herself, an incredulous look on her face. "Me? Take her for a walk? No way. I'm not her mom, ze. You can't just dump babysitting duty on me."

Rain's eyes narrowed as she looked at Marisa, clearly not amused by her wording. "Babysitting?" she repeated in a flat tone, her arms now crossed more tightly. "I don't need to be babysat. I'm perfectly capable of walking around without breaking anything."

Marisa snorted, leaning against her broom like it was the funniest thing she'd heard all day. "Yeah, and the door totally agrees with you."

Rain huffed and crossed her arms, her pout making a return. She hated feeling like a child, and this whole situation wasn't helping. Reimu, however, wasn't in the mood for any arguments.

"Marisa," Reimu said, her tone firm, "you're already here, and I have things to take care of. Just take her for a quick walk, make sure she doesn't accidentally level anything, and bring her back. It's not that hard."

Marisa groaned theatrically, tossing her head back. "Fine, fine," she muttered, waving a hand dismissively. "I'll do it."

As she spoke, however, a brief, fleeting thought passed through her mind. 'There's still that thing I planned for Rain anyway… but she's in no condition for that now. Maybe I'll put it off until she's a little more herself'. The thought wasn't voiced aloud, and Marisa quickly brushed it aside as she looked back at Reimu, giving a half-hearted shrug.

"Alright, alright. I'll make sure she doesn't do any more damage today," Marisa finally said with a roll of her eyes, though there was a hint of amusement behind her words.

Rain, meanwhile, didn't seem thrilled by the idea of Marisa playing "nanny," but she wasn't about to argue further, figuring that the sooner they left, the sooner she could get away from this whole babysitting situation. "Fine," she muttered, "but I'm not happy about it."

Marisa grinned wider at that. "Yeah, yeah. I'm sure you're not."

The celestial realm of Bhavaagra was as picturesque as ever, its skies a perpetual gradient of soft golds and blues, unbroken by clouds. White jade paths, lined with blooming peach trees, meandered lazily through verdant gardens and open courtyards. The tranquility of Heaven was enhanced by a faint hum in the air, the resonance of celestial harmony. Yet, despite the idyllic setting, unease lingered.

Tenshi Hinanawi strolled through the heavenly avenues with her usual carefree gait, the hem of her blue dress swaying against her boots. She carried an air of nonchalance, twirling a small peach she had plucked earlier. Her dark hat tilted slightly to the side, adorned with its familiar decorations. Her carefree smile, however, contrasted with the worried expressions of the other celestials she passed. They whispered among themselves, their gazes lingering nervously on Tenshi, but she paid them no heed.

As she turned a corner near a fountain whose waters sparkled like liquid diamonds, a group of celestials froze in their tracks. One of them gasped audibly before hastily averting their gaze. Another muttered something about a sign, their words inaudible, though their urgency was palpable. Tenshi rolled her eyes, deciding not to engage. Probably some nonsense about my behavior again, she thought dismissively.

Unbeknownst to her, the focus of their alarm was not her attitude but a dark mark etched on the side of her neck. A skull-like insignia glowed faintly, accompanied by a stark number: 1.

Iku Nagae drifted gracefully through the sky, her crimson hagoromo trailing behind her like ribbons of light. She descended into Bhavaagra with the poise befitting her role as a messenger of the Dragon Palace. Her light indigo hair swayed gently as she landed, her black hat still perfectly perched atop her head. She adjusted her white and red blouse, smoothing the fabric as her sharp eyes scanned her surroundings.

Iku was not unfamiliar with the whims of celestials, particularly Tenshi Hinanawi, whose antics frequently tested her patience. Yet as she walked the serene paths, a different kind of tension filled the air. Celestials murmured nervously as she passed, their faces pale with unease. Their gazes darted toward Tenshi, who was lounging lazily by the fountain. Iku's brows furrowed. Something was amiss.

Approaching Tenshi, Iku cleared her throat. "Lady Tenshi," she began, her tone crisp yet uncharacteristically concerned.

Tenshi turned lazily, tossing the peach up and catching it with a grin. "What is it now, Iku? Another complaint from Father?" she teased.

Iku's eyes, however, were fixed on Tenshi's neck. Her face paled, and she instinctively took a step back. "That mark..."

"What mark?" Tenshi asked, tilting her head.

Iku's fingers trembled as she pointed. "On your neck. The mark of Certain Death."

Tenshi frowned, reaching up to feel her neck. "What are you talking about? I don't feel anything."

Iku's voice quivered, uncharacteristic for the usually composed messenger. "That... that cannot be. I thought it was gone... long vanished. And yet, here it is, targeting you."

"What's the big deal?" Tenshi replied, her nonchalance grating. "It's just a weird mark, right? It'll probably go away—"

"Do not be so dismissive!" Iku snapped, her tone sharp. "The one who bears that mark... Their death is certain. It is the harbinger of a being feared even among celestials, a hunter that none can escape. Not even the Kishin Chiefs in Hell compare to it."

Tenshi blinked, unaccustomed to seeing Iku so unnerved. "You're serious?"

Iku took a deep breath, regaining some of her composure. "That being, Certain Death, does not fail. Its reputation is unmatched. No one who has been marked has ever seen it and lived to tell the tale. Even speaking its name terrifies other celestials."

Tenshi's eyes narrowed. "What does this mark even mean?"

"It is not just a warning. It is a countdown," Iku explained, her tone grave. "The number, '1,' signifies the time remaining. You have one day."

The weight of her words hung in the air, suffocating. Even Tenshi, with her usual bravado, felt a chill crawl up her spine. "You're telling me I'm being hunted by something worse than those chiefs in Hell?" she asked, her voice quieter now.

"Yes," Iku said, her voice softening. "Few can even comprehend its nature, let alone its relentlessness. I do not know why it marks its prey in advance, but my guess is that it is a mockery—a cruel jest to its victims, forcing them to feel despair and fear before it finally strikes. Perhaps it finds amusement in watching its targets crumble before their inevitable fate."

Tenshi smirked, though it lacked her usual confidence. "Well, I guess that means I'll just have to deal with it, won't I?"

Iku stared at her, torn between frustration and sorrow. "Lady Tenshi... This is no ordinary threat. Even if you believe yourself invincible, I fear you do not understand what you are facing."

Tenshi crossed her arms, leaning back against the fountain. "Then tell me, Iku. What am I supposed to do? Sit here and wait for my death?"

Iku's silence spoke volumes.

The news of the situation spread through Heaven like wildfire. The celestial servants, or the lesser gods, whispered among themselves, their voices filled with worry and confusion, until word reached the high halls of the great houses of Bhava-agra. It wasn't long before Iku Nagae had reported the incident to Lord Nai, Tenshi's father, a man both revered and feared for his position in the celestial hierarchy.

Lord Nai, head of one of the most ancient and powerful families in Heaven, sat in his vast, ornately decorated study, the sunlight filtering through the ornate windows of his palace. The towering structure was built from materials so pure and radiant that it could rival the very heavens themselves. The space was filled with marble columns and intricate carvings of divine scenes, reminders of the ancient legacy his family held. His gaze, however, was far from admiring the surroundings. Instead, it was focused on the small piece of parchment held in his hand— a report from Iku detailing the so-called "mark of Certain Death" now hanging over his daughter.

The room was still, save for the faint hum of the winds outside, carrying the scent of celestial gardens that bloomed with impossible beauty. Lord Nai's expression was calm, as it usually was, but there was a fire behind his dark eyes— frustration, concern, and perhaps even a touch of helplessness. His daughter, Tenshi, was a force of nature in her own right. Proud, independent, and as reckless as she was gifted. Yet she was his child. He could not— and would not— ignore the danger that seemed to be closing in on her. The family, as one of the Tenin, wielded power unlike most others in Heaven. They were seen as angels, messengers of the gods, but they were also something more, something revered by lesser gods and feared by many. Their reputation carried weight.

"Certain Death…" Lord Nai muttered, the name alone enough to unsettle him. He had heard of it, of course— every celestial had. The mark was said to be an omen of doom, a harbinger of inevitable demise. Yet, what truly troubled him was the timing. Why now? Why Tenshi? What had she done to warrant the attention of such a fearsome entity?

He knew his daughter— perhaps too well. She had a history of causing ripples in the mortal realm, leaving chaos in her wake. From her playful mischief with the inhabitants of Gensokyo to her near-constant defiance of Heaven's rules, Tenshi had always acted as if there were no consequences to her actions. But had she truly done something this serious? Or was this yet another cosmic jest at her expense?

As Lord Nai mulled over these thoughts, the door to the study opened. A single figure stepped into the room: Iku Nagae, the messenger of the Dragon Palace. Her usual calm demeanor was tinged with frustration as she approached, her expression a mix of exasperation and resignation.

"Lord Nai, I'm afraid we have a problem," Iku began, her voice steady but with a hint of annoyance. "Tenshi has already left."

Lord Nai's eyes darkened with a flash of anger, the first sign of emotion he had shown since reading the report. He clenched his fist, crumpling the parchment in his hand.

"I should've known," he muttered under his breath. "That child... Always running off without thinking."

Iku sighed, her eyes flicking toward the massive windows of the study, where the ethereal light of Heaven bathed everything in a golden glow. The grand palace, which towered over the landscape, felt almost too small for a being of Lord Nai's stature. Even the thick, cloud-like fog that surrounded the palace seemed to part when he walked through it.

"I've sent word to the other messengers," Iku continued, crossing her arms. "But with Tenshi's impulsive nature, she'll likely have already made her way to wherever this… 'Certain Death' is lurking. The situation is more complicated than we anticipated."

Lord Nai's brow furrowed. His love for his daughter was undeniable, but she tested him at every turn. Still, he couldn't help but feel a pang of concern.

"Why Tenshi, though? Of all the people…" he said, pacing back and forth, his powerful presence casting a shadow across the room. "What has she done to attract this... this being?"

Iku hesitated before answering, knowing that her words would only add fuel to the fire. "It could be her past excursions to the mortal realm. She's always been reckless— and it's not like this is the first time she's been involved in something dangerous. I've had to clean up after her more than once."

Lord Nai stopped pacing, his expression softening slightly. "Reckless, yes. But surely she's done nothing to deserve this… 'Certain Death.'"

Iku shrugged. "We can't know for sure. All we know is that the mark was placed upon her, and it will only be a matter of time before it comes after her. The mark has never been wrong in the past, after all."

"Damn that girl," Lord Nai growled under his breath, rubbing his temple. He turned his attention back to Iku, a glimmer of resolve in his eyes. "Go after her. Find out where she's gone and bring her back safely. She is still my daughter, despite her endless foolishness."

Iku gave a slight bow. "Of course, my lord."

In a matter of moments, Iku had already left the room, disappearing into the corridors of the palace. Lord Nai remained, standing silently as the light from the windows slowly began to shift, marking the passing of time. It wasn't even five minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. A lifetime of frustration, worry, and a deep, unwavering love for his daughter.

As Iku unfurled her long, flowing hagoromo and took to the air, she couldn't help but sigh. Tenshi's impetuous nature was a source of constant exasperation for her. Why couldn't she have stayed and let someone else resolve this situation? The irony was not lost on Iku that she was now chasing after a celestial too stubborn to recognize the severity of her predicament.

The morning sun continued its ascent, less than five minutes had passed since Tenshi left the estate. But in Heaven, where time often seemed to stretch endlessly, the weight of those few minutes felt immense. Iku's flight was swift, her mind racing with strategies to not only retrieve Tenshi but also uncover the truth behind this supposed mark of death. In truth, all the tension, fear, and looming sense of doom surrounding Tenshi's supposed mark of Certain Death was nothing but a colossal misunderstanding the reality behind the mark was far more absurd than even her wildest speculations.

A/N: Marisa really just had to write her name doesn't she? Also, a short explanation. The scroll would leave nonsense words out, hence the word "sucks" didn't appear. It would have been funny if it did though but Rain's past self just didn't saw the appeal and quoting her "Would be a minus cool points to her so called calling card."