Chapter 7

Under the midday sun at the Hakurei Shrine, a gentle breeze rustled the cedar branches. Kyouya lounged lazily on the veranda, sipping freshly brewed tea while gazing at Reimu in the distance.

The shrine maiden sat at the edge of the courtyard, a ledger spread open in front of her as she frowned over this month's earnings. Amid the delicate sound of wind chimes, she let out a heavy sigh, closed the ledger, and tossed it aside, her face unmistakably marked with worry.

"Reimu, why the look of impending doom?" Kyouya asked, feigning casual indifference.

Reimu rolled her eyes, propping her cheek on one hand.
"Come on, you live and eat here at the shrine without paying a single coin. Do you even know how bad the shrine's donations are? I'm about to be left with nothing but air to drink!"

Kyouya shrugged, putting on an innocent expression."Eh? Isn't the Hakurei Shrine the central hub of Gensokyo? How could it be short on offerings?"

Reimu huffed in frustration, her tone tinged with annoyance.
"Plenty of people come to drink tea and cause trouble, but hardly anyone actually comes to pray or make proper donations. And you—you just laze around all day, pretending to help but always sneaking off!"

Scratching the back of his head, Kyouya chuckled slyly.
"Hehe, no need to be so cold. It sounds like what you need isn't divine intervention but more popularity and revenue. How about…I come up with an idea for you?"

Reimu narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.
"You? You don't look like an honest guy at all. What kind of 'idea' could you possibly have?"

"Well, you see," Kyouya suddenly shifted to a serious tone, lowering his voice slightly, "if you trust me, I can guarantee the Hakurei Shrine's income for a single day will surpass the total of the past few years."

"In one day?" Reimu almost laughed aloud.
"What are you planning, to conjure money from thin air? Or maybe 'borrow' some cash from the neighbors using wind?"

"No, no, no." Kyouya wagged his finger, his grin mysterious.
"Money isn't the issue—the key is 'popularity.' Get everyone to come here, and the donations will naturally pour in."

The next morning, Kyouya scurried around Gensokyo, spreading the word far and wide: the Hakurei Shrine would soon host an unprecedented event—the Hakurei Blessing Festival. Participants would not only receive an exclusive talisman handcrafted by Reimu but also enjoy complimentary gourmet dishes prepared by the tsukumogami trio. There would also be a Miko Quiz Challenge and limited-edition merchandise available for purchase. In short, it was more than just a religious celebration—it was a grand carnival.

Festival Day

On a bright summer afternoon, the Hakurei Shrine's torii gate glimmered softly under the sunlight. A gentle breeze carried the fresh scent of flowers and grass over the stone steps leading up to the shrine. Today was the day of the Hakurei Blessing Festival, and the shrine courtyard was bustling with activity—a stark contrast to its usual quiet.

Opening Scene
Kyouya had been planning this festival for some time. Previously, Reimu's dire financial situation and dismal donation income had weighed heavily on the Hakurei miko's mind. So, Kyouya stepped in with a solution—a festival combining entertainment and community engagement. Once the word spread, people from all corners of Gensokyo flocked to the event:

Yukari strolled in gracefully, holding an oil-paper umbrella and wearing her usual enigmatic smile.

Mokou stood quietly on the sidelines, arms crossed as she observed the crowd.

Aya darted through the gathering with her camera, capturing every amusing moment.

Remilia arrived elegantly with Flandre in tow, a hint of anticipation on her face.

Others such as Yuyuko, Marisa, Sakuya, Sanae, Patchouli, Kaguya, Suika, Komachi, and Youmu also made appearances, transforming the shrine into a bustling marketplace.

Thanks to their recent sparring sessions and "carefully orchestrated defeats," the tsukumogami trio had firmly established their combat abilities as "average" in everyone's minds. However, their "slightly serious" culinary skills had recently captivated everyone's taste buds. While some had previously been curious about their cooking abilities, that curiosity had long been satisfied.

Their dishes were not only exquisite but rivaled those of the finest chefs in the human world.

After the last feast, the food lovers of Gensokyo—including Yuyuko, Marisa, and Suika—were all eagerly awaiting the festival's exclusive cuisine.

In a corner of the courtyard, Kyouya, Kengo, and Tamami busied themselves behind their stall.

In addition to serving exquisite delicacies and desserts, they also offered a variety of merchandise:

Hakurei Shrine Teacups: White porcelain with red Hakurei patterns, simple yet elegant.

Charm-Patterned Handkerchiefs: Soft cotton embroidered with intricate charm motifs, each one unique.

Originally, Kyouya had planned to create a "Limited Edition Reimu Figurine," meticulously carving Reimu's likeness into a collectible doll. It was a guaranteed bestseller. However, as he set up the stall in the early morning, he hesitated and ultimately decided to abandon the idea.

Early Morning at the Shrine

In the quiet side corridor of the shrine, Kyouya held the unfinished wooden prototype, his expression complicated as he approached Reimu, who was tidying the gohei.

"Reimu, I originally planned to release a 'Limited Edition Reimu Figurine,' but after thinking it over, I've decided not to," Kyouya said with a faint, self-deprecating smile.

Reimu raised an eyebrow.
"Didn't you say it would attract more people and boost our income? Why the change of heart?"

Taking a deep breath, Kyouya looked at her with a gaze that held both warmth and determination.

"Because I don't want my shrine maiden to become an object of fantasy—especially for those male visitors."

"...Your shrine maiden?" Reimu blinked in surprise, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. The phrase sounded both dramatic and unexpected, but Kyouya's tone was sincere, devoid of any frivolity.

"Yes. You're the guardian of the Hakurei Shrine, someone unique and precious in my eyes. I don't want your image to be reduced to some collectible for people to take home and daydream about. That would really bother me," Kyouya admitted earnestly.

Reimu bit her lip, trying to maintain her composure.
"You've put a lot of thought into this… Though I'm not that sensitive about it, I admit it would feel strange to become a product. Fine, no figurines. The handkerchiefs and teacups should be enough to bring in money."

Relieved, Kyouya smiled.

"Thank you for understanding. I want to preserve your dignity and sacredness. To me, you're not a tool for making money—you're someone I deeply respect."

Feeling slightly flustered, Reimu averted her gaze.
"Stop being so glib and get back to work." Though her tone was annoyed, her eyes carried a newfound softness.

When the festival officially started, people soon noticed the rumored "Reimu Figurine" was nowhere to be found among the merchandise. The news quickly spread, sparking varied reactions:

Yukari, half-closing her violet eyes, gently swayed her paper fan with a sly smile.
"Haha, Kyouya has some sense after all, knowing to protect the Hakurei Shrine maiden's image. He's earned my respect." Already curious about him, Yukari now appreciated his sensitivity to Reimu's feelings even more.

Mokou, who had only come to sample the food, crossed her arms and murmured from the sidelines:
"Hmph, no figurines? At least it shows he has principles, not exploiting Reimu's image for profit. That's some integrity." While munching on the tsukumogami's delicious noodles, her opinion of Kyouya subtly shifted.

Aya, ever the journalist, immediately picked up on the exclusive scoop. Snapping photos of the cheerful crowd, she chuckled to herself.
"This is perfect headline material. 'Why Did the Tsukumogami Cancel the Reimu Figurine? Because of "My Shrine Maiden."' How romantic and tactful!" Aya had already drafted the story in her head, eager to report it far and wide.

Remilia, sipping tea and admiring the red-and-white patterned porcelain, mused:"I was curious to see how detailed the figurine would be, but it's just as well that it wasn't sold. Keeping respect for Reimu and not letting her become a plaything shows this tsukumogami isn't purely profit-driven." Her assessment of Kyouya rose even higher."A clever and courteous individual—I like that," she thought.

Yuyuko, enjoying her desserts, giggled."What a thoughtful decision. But honestly, this cake is so delicious, I don't care if the figurines were sold or not!"

Marisa, stuffing her face with tempura, laughed through a full mouth.
"Hehe, looks like that Kyouya guy isn't just good at organizing events—he understands Reimu pretty well. I'll give him credit for that."

Sanae, savoring a limited-edition dessert, admired Kyouya's consideration, resolving to pay closer attention to preserving her own shrine maiden image in future Moriya Shrine events.

Others, including Sakuya, Patchouli, Kaguya, Suika, Youmu, and Komachi, nodded quietly in approval. They agreed that Kyouya's decision not only upheld the shrine's dignity but also reflected his thoughtfulness and tact.

When the festival concluded, Reimu opened the offering box and stared in astonishment at the overflowing coins inside.

The income for that single day far exceeded expectations, and the shrine's popularity had skyrocketed. Visitors couldn't stop praising the tsukumogami's culinary skills, and their respect for Reimu was greater than ever.

Without the awkward figurine plan, the festival had a more dignified and refined atmosphere.

After a busy day, the courtyard finally grew quiet. Reimu sat on the veranda, gazing up at the starry sky. Kyouya approached with two cups of tea, handing one to her.

"You've worked hard, my shrine maiden," Kyouya said, deliberately using the teasing yet affectionate title with a hint of indulgence.

Reimu rolled her eyes, though her face carried a faint smile.
"Stop being gross. I'm not admitting to being your shrine maiden. But… thanks to you, today turned out great. I really owe you one."

Kyouya shrugged, his smile relaxed.
"Too much gratitude is dull. I just did what needed to be done. You're the heart of the shrine—it's only right to protect your image. I wouldn't want you to become someone's idle fantasy."

Reimu huffed softly, choosing not to argue further. The two sat side by side, quietly enjoying the night. In the distance, the festival lights dimmed, and the sound of laughter faded into a gentle echo carried by the breeze.

That night, the Hakurei Shrine not only achieved remarkable financial success but also left a fresh and sacred impression on all who attended. Kyouya's words, "my shrine maiden," though dismissed aloud by Reimu, left an inexplicable warmth and flutter in her heart.

In the serene afternoon at the Hakurei Shrine, sunlight filtered gently through the swaying trees, as if the whole world were basking in tranquility.

Kyouya leaned lazily against a veranda pillar, a cup of tea in his hand, his gaze idly following a fallen leaf carried by the breeze. Suddenly, a faint ripple of a gap appeared before him, and Yukari stepped out gracefully.

Unlike usual, her expression lacked its characteristic lazy smile, replaced by a rare hint of gloom. She lightly fanned herself, her tone soft but tinged with irritation.
"Kyouya, you seem to be living quite comfortably. It looks like your days are far easier than mine."

Kyouya turned to her, his familiar smile unchanged.
"My dear youkai sage, you look as if the sky has fallen. What's the matter? Did something troublesome crawl out of your gaps?"

Yukari sighed lightly, her gaze drifting toward the distant shadows of the trees. Her voice, uncharacteristically earnest, carried a trace of weariness.
"The stability of the gaps has been acting up recently. The atmospheric flow during the day-night transition is affecting the edges of the gaps' structure. I've tried many solutions, but none have completely resolved the issue."

Kyouya set his teacup down gently, the corner of his mouth curving into a playful smirk.
"My dear youkai sage, even you have headaches? That's a rare sight. Here's an idea—if the problem is with the air currents during the day-night transition, why not… pray for the heavens to cooperate and give you favorable weather?"

Yukari turned her head, half-lidded eyes narrowing as her fan concealed half her face. Her tone was half-teasing, half-amused.

"Praying for favorable weather? Sounds like nonsense. But… your suggestion is amusing, I'll give you that."

She cast Kyouya a meaningful glance before vanishing into a gap.

Later That Night

In the quiet of the shrine's veranda, Kyouya stood gazing up at the star-filled sky. His smile carried a hint of mystery as he muttered to himself.

"The gaps acting up, huh? What a troublesome issue. But how can I refuse when my dear youkai sage personally asks for help?"

He closed his eyes, attuning himself to the subtle shifts in the atmosphere. High-altitude air currents began to adjust minutely—temperature, humidity, and pressure gradients shifted by fractions of a degree. Each precise adjustment was like a masterful stroke of art, dispersing the turbulence at the gaps' edges and restoring their stability.

"All right, that should do it."

With that, he withdrew his hand and returned to the veranda, resuming his tea as if nothing had happened. His expression remained calm, as if he had merely turned the page of a book.

The Next Morning

In her mansion, Yukari opened a gap to check its stability. Closing her eyes to sense its edges, she was astonished to find that the persistent turbulence had completely vanished. The precision and subtlety of the changes left her frowning in thought.

"This… can't just be a coincidence."Murmuring to herself, her gaze flickered with complex emotions.

Moments later, she appeared at the Hakurei Shrine, just in time to see Kyouya lazily yawning on the veranda. Lifting her chin slightly, her tone carried a rare softness.

"Kyouya, it seems the heavens decided to grant me a favor. The gaps have stabilized."

Kyouya shrugged, maintaining his relaxed demeanor.
"Well, that's good news, my dear youkai sage. Looks like you can take it easy for a while."

Yukari huffed lightly, her gaze playful and tinged with suspicion.
"A favor from the heavens, hmm? Sounds convenient. But if something this 'coincidental' happens again, I may no longer see it as mere luck."

Kyouya's smile remained breezy.
"You're the all-knowing youkai sage. Why would you ever suspect someone as ordinary as a humble tsukumogami like me?"

Yukari said no more, folding her fan and vanishing into a gap. A faint, nearly imperceptible smile lingered on her lips, while Ran and Chen exchanged puzzled glances.

"The gaps stabilized far too 'coincidentally,' don't you think?" Ran remarked, her gaze probing."Master, you seem to know exactly what's going on."

Yukari chuckled, shaking her head."Just a coincidence, nothing more."

Chen tilted her head innocently."But Yukari-Sama, whenever you talk about Kyouya-san, you always smile without realizing it."

Yukari didn't deny it, simply covering half her face with her fan, her expression betraying a subtle, unhidden delight.

Later, Yukari shared the resolution of the gap problem with the other girls, eliciting various reactions:

Reimu, sitting beneath the eaves, frowned as she glanced at Kyouya basking in the sun."The weather just happened to cooperate? As if the heavens actually listen to requests."

She let out a light snort, inwardly certain Kyouya was up to something.
"Well, whatever. The problem's solved, and he didn't cause any trouble. But ordinary? Hmph, who'd believe that?"

Though she refused to admit it aloud, her evaluation of Kyouya quietly rose. What an endearing yet enigmatic guy.

Mokou, munching on grilled dango, scoffed."The weather just 'happened' to cooperate? What a load of nonsense. That guy definitely did something."
Still, she didn't mind the outcome as long as the problem was resolved.
"Fine, I'll give him credit, but don't expect me to praise him to his face."

Despite her words, she couldn't help but glance toward the shrine, silently acknowledging that Kyouya had more to him than just clever talk.

Aya, upon hearing the news, lit up with the enthusiasm of a reporter.
"Hehe, this is an exclusive scoop! The weather 'coincidentally' stabilized the gaps…"

Grinning mischievously, she scribbled notes in her journal.

"Next time, I'll interview Kyouya and see how he dodges the questions. I can't wait to uncover what secrets this tsukumogami is hiding!"

Remilia, sipping fine tea in the Scarlet Devil Mansion's garden, chuckled.
"Another curious coincidence? Looks like Kyouya has a few tricks up his sleeve. Rather than the heavens cooperating, I'd say he's pulling strings behind the scenes."

She didn't doubt the tsukumogami's abilities or question his motives, instead appreciating his understated humor and competence."Interesting. Perhaps I should invite him to the mansion someday and see what lies beneath that ordinary facade."

Others had their own thoughts.

Yuyuko appreciated the balance restored.

Sanae found it intriguing.

Sakuya and Patchouli remained skeptical.

Kaguya and Flandre found it amusing.

Suika laughed heartily, calling it a grand joke.

Komachi and Youmu simply smiled without comment.

Late at Night

Kyouya stood alone beneath the shrine's eaves, gazing at the starry sky. In a quiet voice, he mused,"My dear youkai sage, with the gaps steady again, I hope your mood has improved too."

A breeze brushed past, and he chuckled softly."Everyone thinks it's the heavens lending a hand. I suppose this ordinary tsukumogami will stay hidden behind the curtain of normalcy a little longer."

Turning back to the veranda, he picked up his tea, his expression as calm and carefree as ever. It was as if the night's secret performance had never happened.

Over the past few days, Kyouya had taken to using his "expertise in weather prediction" as an excuse to help others, ensuring they believed everything was merely the result of perfect timing and natural coincidences.

To them, Kyouya might not understand combat or divine powers, but his insights into weather were astoundingly precise.

This time, his quiet interventions extended to the Scarlet Devil Mansion's vampire mistress, Remilia; the immortal fire maiden of the Bamboo Forest of the Lost, Mokou; and the tengu reporter of Bunbunmaru News, Aya.

Morning at the Scarlet Devil Mansion

The Scarlet Devil Mansion's garden was as tranquil and elegant as ever. The morning mist had not yet fully dissipated, and sunlight filtered softly through thin clouds, casting a golden hue over each blade of grass.

Kyouya wandered leisurely through the garden, holding a cup of black tea, when he noticed Remilia sitting alone on a bench. Her expression carried an uncharacteristic hint of worry.

He smiled faintly, approaching with a casual air.
"My dear mistress, sitting here so early in the morning—are you waiting for today's tea? What's this? Have your maids been slacking off?"

Remilia glanced up at him, her ruby-red eyes flashing with a trace of impatience."Don't tarnish my maids' reputation with your idiotic assumptions. The tea and pastries are as perfect as ever. The problem lies elsewhere."

She frowned slightly and turned her gaze toward the sky above the garden.

"And what problem might that be?" Kyouya asked, feigning ignorance, his tone teasing.

Remilia narrowed her eyes, her voice laced with a rare note of resignation.
"The light. I detest harsh sunlight, but lately, the daytime glare has been unbearable. And at night, the moonlight has been so dim I can't even read my books gracefully. This dissonance in lighting is an insult to the elegance of the Scarlet Devil Mansion."

Kyouya tilted his head, as if pondering."Oh, that does sound like a dilemma. But… have you considered that it might be a matter of the weather?"

"The weather?" Remilia raised an eyebrow, her tone filled with skepticism."Are you saying the weather can soften sunlight and make moonlight as bright as day? Kyouya, do you think I'm the type to believe such nonsense?"

Kyouya shrugged, his smile unfazed."It's not nonsense, I assure you. I've dabbled in weather prediction before and know that cloud cover, humidity, and airflow can affect light refraction. Perhaps… the weather over the Scarlet Devil Mansion will conveniently solve this problem for you."

Remilia let out a derisive laugh."The weather helping me? How amusing. Fine, since you're so confident, let's see what this so-called weather can do."

Kyouya nodded with an easy smile and strolled away at his usual unhurried pace. But what no one at the Scarlet Devil Mansion realized was that later that night, Kyouya subtly adjusted the thickness of the clouds, the direction of the air currents, and the moisture levels high above the mansion.

By day, the sunlight filtered through the clouds became as soft and warm as velvet, no longer glaring. By night, he directed the airflow to clear excess moisture, allowing the moonlight to shine with unprecedented clarity and brightness.

A Few Days Later

Remilia was delighted to discover that the lighting issues at the Scarlet Devil Mansion had seemingly vanished. By day, the sunlight was gentle as morning dew, no longer stinging her eyes.

By night, the moonlight poured like silver, illuminating the terrace enough for her to read ancient tomes with ease.

Such changes satisfied her greatly, though they also puzzled her.
"The weather's coincidences… truly remarkable," she murmured, her gaze contemplative.

When Remilia next encountered Kyouya, she stood in the mansion's garden, framed by the newly softened light. Her noble posture remained intact, but her tone carried a subtle warmth absent in her usual demeanor.
"Kyouya, your 'weather predictions' are startlingly accurate," she said, tilting her chin with a self-assured smile.
"Although I dislike attributing outcomes to luck, this time… I'll admit your advice had some merit."

Kyouya returned her gaze with a relaxed smile, his tone light.
"I must have just gotten lucky. After all, I'm nothing more than an ordinary tsukumogami."

Remilia's ruby-red eyes narrowed slightly, a playful glint flickering within.
"Ordinary? An ordinary tsukumogami can manipulate the weather? Kyouya, do you truly think such a lie will fool me?"

Though she voiced her skepticism, she didn't press the matter further. Instead, she silently acknowledged a new layer of respect for his abilities.

Reactions Within the Mansion

The incident didn't go unnoticed by others in the Scarlet Devil Mansion.

Flandre was the first to show her excitement, twirling around the garden and shouting,
"Sis, this light is amazing! It's so soft during the day, and at night the moon is so bright—I can play even more now!"

Her laughter echoed through the garden, drawing a smile from Meiling, who nodded in agreement."Milady, the light these past few days has indeed been more comfortable. And the nights… they almost feel longer somehow."

Patchouli quietly flipped through her books, murmuring,"This change isn't a natural phenomenon… interesting."

Beside her, Koakuma chimed in."It really is amazing! The lighting issue resolved itself so suddenly…" She paused before adding in a small voice,
"Could it have been Kyouya san's 'prediction'?"

Sakuya, observing the garden from the kitchen, watched the gentle interplay of light and shadow. A faint glimmer of thought crossed her eyes.

She had long noticed that whenever Kyouya visited, the mansion's nights always seemed to "coincidentally" become more suited to vampire life.
Softly, she murmured,"Every time Milady mentions Kyouya san… her gaze seems different somehow."

Remilia's Private Thoughts

Even Remilia herself noticed that whenever she spoke Kyouya's name, an inexplicable lightness filled her heart. It was a subtle, unspoken feeling—as though she was being quietly looked after, though she would never openly admit it.

To her, the idea of expressing gratitude outright was unthinkable, but that faint sense of joy lingered nonetheless.

Perhaps, deep down, she had already come to regard this "ordinary tsukumogami" as someone special, even if she would never easily admit it.

The Bamboo Forest at Night

The moonlight spread gently like a sheer veil, blanketing the land. Yet, the Bamboo Forest felt unusually desolate—vast swaths of bamboo had been scorched black, and the air carried the faint smell of charred wood.

Sitting amidst the scorched earth was the fiery-tempered immortal of Eientei's vicinity, Mokou. She sat with her head lowered, idly fiddling with a charred piece of bamboo, her face etched with frustration and discontent.

"Hey, Mokou, let me guess—you had another fight with Kaguya? Or are you competing to see who can burn bamboo faster?" a lazy, teasing voice suddenly broke the silence.

Mokou looked up to see Kyouya approaching. His tone was playful, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes, leaving her momentarily unsure how to respond.

"Don't talk nonsense." Mokou rolled her eyes, her voice tinged with irritation. "Lately, my flames seem to be out of control. A slight outburst, and I end up burning an entire area. This is the third time I've torched this bamboo forest. If this keeps up, even Eientei will go up in flames."

Kyouya stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"Out of control flames? That doesn't sound like you. You usually have no problem controlling them."

"Hmph, as if I need you to tell me that." Mokou sighed, a rare trace of weariness showing on her face.
"I don't know why, but I just can't control it. Every time the flames rise, I can't seem to stop them."

Kyouya nodded slightly, his casual demeanor hiding the rapid calculations running through his mind. His tone remained lighthearted.
"You know, fire and weather are closely related. For example, flames are harder to control when the air's too dry. Maybe the weather in the Bamboo Forest will get more humid over the next few days. That might help stabilize your flames."

Mokou raised an eyebrow, her skepticism evident.
"Weather? You're saying I should count on the heavens to fix this?"

"Well, why not? Sometimes, the heavens are surprisingly cooperative," Kyouya replied with a relaxed smile, his tone carrying a hint of nonchalant confidence. "Consider it a stroke of luck."

Mokou didn't say much more, only letting out a soft scoff as she returned her attention to the bamboo piece in her hand.

Late Night

When the Bamboo Forest fell silent, Kyouya stood amidst the charred remains, gazing at the sky. Closing his eyes, he silently outlined a plan to adjust the air's humidity and wind direction.

He precisely increased the moisture content in the air surrounding the Bamboo Forest to the optimal level and slightly altered the direction of the breeze to naturally weaken any spreading flames.

"That should do it," Kyouya murmured to himself, a satisfied smile on his lips. He quietly left the forest as if nothing had happened.

A Few Days Later

After another outburst of fire, Mokou was stunned to discover that her flames no longer spread uncontrollably. Running her fingers along the edge of the flames, she could feel an invisible barrier seemingly keeping them contained.

"What… is this?" she muttered to herself, her voice tinged with disbelief.

That evening, Mokou sought out Kyouya, her tone a mix of surprise and defiance.
"Kyouya, my flames seem to have stabilized. Don't tell me this is all thanks to the weather."

Kyouya responded with a carefree smile, spreading his hands.
"Of course, it's the weather. Haven't you noticed how the humidity's been higher these past few days? I just got lucky and 'predicted' it would happen."

Mokou pursed her lips. Though her words remained sharp, she couldn't help but feel a small surge of gratitude. She hated owing anyone, but this "help from the weather" had given her an unprecedented sense of relief.

Her flames were under control, the Bamboo Forest was safe, and she no longer feared her temper would destroy everything around her.

Back in the Bamboo Forest

As Mokou returned to the forest, she saw Keine approaching from a nearby hut, carrying freshly brewed tea. Keine handed her a cup, her tone gentle but teasing.
"Well, it looks like your troubles have been solved."

Taking the cup, Mokou sipped the tea and replied flatly,
"That guy… Kyouya's 'weather prediction' seems to have actually worked."

Keine smiled warmly, her gaze filled with subtle meaning.
"Kyouya helping you solve your problems—it's not just luck. Can't you feel it? It's a special kind of bond, similar to friendship but deeper…"

"A special bond?" Mokou frowned in confusion, trying to grasp Keine's words but finding only a hazy understanding."What do you mean?"

Keine didn't explain further, instead patting Mokou's shoulder with an encouraging tone.
"You'll understand in time. Some answers aren't given—they're discovered."

As Keine walked away, Mokou stood in a daze, her mind repeatedly conjuring up images of Kyouya's smile and his casual tone. That gentle feeling was like a breeze cutting through the fiery chaos of her heart, leaving behind an indescribable sense of coolness and softness.

In the mountain forest, a cool breeze carried the crisp scent of morning dew, and the mist had yet to fully dissipate.

A swift shadow darted through the treetops, leaving a trail of rustling leaves in its wake—it was none other than the tengu reporter of Gensokyo, Aya. Clutching a stack of papers, she flapped her wings with urgency, her face etched with frustration and irritation.

"Damn it, late again!" Aya came to an abrupt halt in midair, muttering under her breath. Recently, her news had consistently been a step behind, with other tengu reporters scooping her stories first. Known for her unrivaled speed, this string of failures was nothing short of a devastating blow to her pride.

Just then, Kyouya strolled leisurely along a forest path below. Spotting Aya hovering in the air, he greeted her with a relaxed smile.
"Well, well, Aya, rushing off to scoop another exclusive, are we?"

Aya glanced down at him, her brows furrowed tightly, her tone laced with irritation.
"Of course! Lately, my news has been half a beat too slow. By the time I'm ready to publish, the story's already out. How am I supposed to maintain the reputation of Bunbunmaru News?"

Kyouya leaned casually against a tree, his signature lazy grin in place.
"That serious, huh? It's rare to see Aya so upset."

Aya glared at him, her voice tinged with more annoyance.
"Of course it's serious! I'm Gensokyo's fastest reporter—how can I lose in timeliness? It feels like a race where my wings suddenly stop working!"

Scratching his head, Kyouya feigned deep thought.
"Sounds tricky. But have you considered that wind direction might be the key? If you had a tailwind helping you, your speed would improve significantly. Maybe you should adjust your flight routes."

Aya raised an eyebrow, skepticism flickering in her eyes."Wind direction? What do you know about it?"

Kyouya grinned widely, his tone light and carefree."Well, I've studied weather a bit. Over the next few days, the wind direction should work in your favor. Why not give it a try?"

Aya cast him a sidelong glance, still doubtful, but the thought of her recent struggles prompted her to nod."Fine, I'll trust you this once."

In truth, Kyouya had already made subtle adjustments to the mountain air currents. Using precise control, he altered wind direction and air pressure, ensuring that Aya would be aided by a gentle tailwind during her flights, reducing resistance and optimizing airflow along her usual routes.

The changes were so subtle as to be imperceptible but sufficient to significantly boost Aya's flying speed.

A Few Days Later

Aya was astonished to find that her news timeliness had miraculously returned to its leading position. She arrived at news sites earlier than ever, and her articles were published first every time. Readers lauded Bunbunmaru News for reclaiming its "Flying Crow Legend" status.

Unable to contain her curiosity, Aya sought out Kyouya. This time, her tone carried less irritation and more excitement and intrigue.

"Kyouya, your weather predictions are better than divine! The recent wind changes have dramatically improved my flying efficiency." Aya stood before him, her voice tinged with genuine admiration.

Feigning innocence, Kyouya shrugged and said,"Just lucky, I guess. Weather is unpredictable, after all. But it seems you're better at seizing opportunities than other tengu."

Narrowing her eyes, Aya stared at him slyly."Is that so? Somehow, I feel like your 'lucky guess' this time was a bit too accurate."

As a reporter, Aya's keen instincts had picked up on something unusual. Yet, Kyouya's expression remained as calm and unperturbed as ever, leaving her unable to pinpoint anything suspicious.

"Aya, don't accuse me unjustly. I'm just an ordinary tsukumogami—I don't have that kind of ability." Kyouya's tone was lazy, his warm smile unwavering.

Aya's gaze lingered on him, her curiosity evident, but a small smile played at her lips.
"Ordinary, huh? Hmph. Kyouya, I'll be keeping an eye on you."

Though Aya teased him outwardly, she couldn't deny the subtle feelings stirring in her heart. She rarely expressed admiration for others and was even less inclined to trust easily.

Yet, Kyouya's understated but effective assistance sparked a complicated emotion within her—part curiosity for the unknown and part unspoken admiration for this "ordinary tsukumogami."

Nearby, Momiji and Hatate watched the scene unfold clearly. Lately, Aya had been mentioning Kyouya more and more, and every time she said his name, her expression took on a peculiar softness.

The two exchanged a knowing glance.

"Aya's been acting strange recently," Hatate whispered to Momiji, leaning in conspiratorially.
"Don't you think she always smiles a little when she talks about Kyouya?"

Momiji replied in a low voice, a touch of exasperation in her tone.
"Yeah… She probably hasn't realized it herself yet. But it's pretty amusing."

Neither of them said anything further, merely keeping their observations to themselves and waiting to see how Aya and Kyouya's story would develop. Meanwhile, Aya was clutching her camera, a faint smile gracing her lips as she reviewed her latest headlines. Deep in her heart, a feeling she couldn't quite name began to stir—like an unfinished exclusive story waiting to be uncovered, piece by piece.

Late at night at the Hakurei Shrine, the soft chirping of insects echoed through the tranquil courtyard. Gentle lamplight spilled from the shrine, casting a serene glow over Reimu Hakurei as she sat on the veranda, lost in thought.

Her fingers gently swirled the tea in her cup, watching the faint ripples, while fragments of memories from the past year replayed in her mind. Ever since that "ordinary tsukumogami," Kyouya Amaba, had arrived, everything seemed to have subtly transformed.

Reimu recalled that spring day when Kyouya first arrived in Gensokyo. He had appeared at the Hakurei Shrine, feigning a lazy and harmless demeanor as he sought lodging. At the time, she'd dismissed him as just another freeloader—someone who'd mooch off her tea, food, and shelter.

But who could have guessed that in just over a year, this man would, in his peculiar way, help solve so many of her problems—even some she never imagined could be resolved so easily?

At first, she saw him as little more than a handy helper, someone to sweep the courtyard, wash teacups, or prepare simple meals.

Later, when the shrine's donation box began to overflow, starting with the wildly successful "Hakurei Blessing Festival" he had proposed, Reimu had no choice but to take him seriously. His so-called "marketing ideas" and "coincidental luck" had generated revenue equivalent to over a decade's worth of donations—in less than a day.

Though skeptical at first, the undeniable weight of the red bills piling up in the offering box forced her to acknowledge Kyouya's capabilities.

Over time, Reimu noticed something peculiar: it wasn't just she who seemed to benefit from Kyouya's "luck" or "forecasts." Yukari's frustration with her gap stability had coincidentally resolved itself after a casual suggestion from Kyouya; Remilia's complaints about uncomfortable lighting in the Scarlet Devil Mansion were mysteriously resolved after his "weather prediction"; Mokou's struggles with uncontrollable flames were tamed when the Bamboo Forest's humidity shifted; and Aya's complaints about her declining news speed were answered by a convenient change in wind patterns, making her the fastest flyer once again.

At first, Reimu dismissed these events as irrelevant. What did it matter if Yukari, Mokou, Remilia, or Aya had problems? They lived far from the shrine and weren't central to her concerns.

But Kyouya's actions stood in stark contrast to her prior experiences. Most people with a unique skill would flaunt it, seeking admiration and recognition. Yet Kyouya always brushed off his contributions with excuses like "lucky weather forecasts" or "pure coincidence," keeping his critical role hidden in a fog of humility. He never sought praise or attention for what he did.

The more Reimu thought about it, the more puzzled and unsettled she became. She tried to tell herself that it didn't matter—why question his motives when she was reaping the benefits? Yet every time she saw him returning to the shrine with that carefree smile—whether from sipping tea with Yukari in her gap, digging bamboo shoots with Mokou, enjoying sweets at the Scarlet Devil Mansion, or helping Aya gather news—she couldn't help but feel a twinge of irritation.

What bothered her most was that Kyouya wasn't particularly warm or attentive toward her. His demeanor was the same with everyone: relaxed yet thoughtful, carefree yet quietly dependable.

Shouldn't she, as the Hakurei shrine maiden, be the focus of his attention? Shouldn't she be the one who mattered most? Thanks to him, the shrine now had financial security for years to come—wasn't that enough?

Yet her heart whispered an uncomfortable truth. It wasn't just his help she wanted—it was his exclusive attention.

The thought embarrassed her, and her cheeks flushed slightly. She, Reimu Hakurei, shouldn't care about the affections of a tsukumogami. She had friends, rivals, and admirers aplenty as Gensokyo's protector. But Kyouya was different. He didn't worship her, nor did he distance himself. Instead, he treated her with a natural closeness that was neither excessive nor dismissive, just as he treated the others.

Thinking back to the past year: when Kyouya suggested hosting the Blessing Festival, she'd been skeptical, but it turned out to be a huge success.

Whenever she was exhausted, he would quietly hand her a towel or a cup of tea to help her unwind. When she set out to deal with troublesome youkai, he would "happen to be nearby," lending a subtle but crucial hand.

And when she returned home after a long day, he would have dinner prepared—a warm bowl of soup and a selection of carefully prepared dishes waiting for her.

And yet… he wasn't like this just with her. That same easygoing kindness extended to Yukari, Remilia, Mokou, Aya—anyone in need. He seemed willing to solve problems for anyone but remained careful not to show favoritism.

This left Reimu deeply conflicted. She appreciated his silent support but didn't want to be just one of many, indistinguishable in his "equal treatment."

"How annoying…" Reimu muttered softly, setting down her teacup. Once, she had sharply asked him, "Why are you always meddling in other people's business?" His breezy reply had been, "I just happen to pass by and know a bit about the weather." This only made her more frustrated.

Despite her suspicions about his hidden abilities, she couldn't find any flaws in his perfect tapestry of coincidences.

She wasn't sure what to call this feeling. Jealousy? Hardly—she was far too confident to crave anyone's exclusive devotion. Yet this vague irritation persisted.

Was it because she doubted his outward display of ordinariness, or because she found in him a sense of stability and comfort that she couldn't have all to herself? She knew he had done more for her than she could ever ask: the shrine's finances were secure, youkai exterminations were easier, and she didn't even have to worry about meals. But what was he really thinking? Was it all an act? Did he simply enjoy helping everyone while wandering freely?

No matter where he went—chatting with Yukari, digging bamboo shoots with Mokou, sharing desserts with Remilia, guiding Aya's news stories—he always returned to the shrine.

That fact alone became her small comfort. No matter how much he spread his energy and ideas to others, the Hakurei Shrine remained his home base.

Yes, he could have lived without relying on the shrine if he truly had the power to manipulate weather—or something even greater. Yet he chose to stay, preparing for her needs, cooking her meals, and bringing back provisions.

Sometimes, she suspected he deliberately maintained this delicate balance, refusing to show clear favoritism while anchoring himself at the shrine.

The thought brought a faint smile to her lips, even as her feelings remained tangled. Was it love? She didn't dare say so. Gratitude? Not quite, since she felt a measure of irritation and suspicion. It was something deeper—a nascent bond.

She knew Kyouya wasn't simple, nor did he lay all his cards on the table. While he treated others with the same "polite warmth," for her, the key difference lay in this: the shrine was his haven.

"Seems like I'll need to try harder," Reimu murmured, taking another sip of tea. The slightly bitter liquid carried a subtle sweetness in its aftertaste—much like her feelings toward Kyouya.

Initially sour, gradually comforting. She wouldn't admit to wanting to monopolize his attention, but she couldn't deny the flicker of curiosity and anticipation in her heart.

Perhaps it was time to understand him better, or to test whether he might show her a different side. The idea seemed silly, yet the spark had already been ignited.

As she stepped into the shrine's dimly lit interior, leaving the starry night behind, Reimu resolved to bide her time.

She would watch, wait, and see if this quiet dance of coincidences would one day bring her the answers she sought—or if Kyouya's carefree façade would continue to mask his true intentions.

Whatever the outcome, she couldn't deny that her life had become richer, steadier, and, most importantly, far more intriguing because of his presence.