A Tale of Two Houses

Notes: Hey guys, I know it's been several months since the last update (sorry about that: had a ton of other deadlines I had to focus on). So here's a quick refresher: we recently discovered that the orphanage is now haunted by the spirit of Eiko Goto, the little girl that had been captured and eaten by the spider youkai. Furthermore, Rumia, Kohta, Keine, Hayate, and Haruko are all infected with some kind of malicious curse. Anyway, Miko Hakurei, Reimu's mother, was brought in to deal with both, but she discovered that the orphanage is filled with dozens, if not hundreds of ghosts, including the spirit of Aoki Yume, the orphanage's original founder, who takes Mokou, Miko, and Satoko through a glowing door to show them something important.

With that out of the way, on with the show!

There was a dream Satoko often had as a child.

In it, she is wandering the halls of the Children's Home, trying to find something that she can never find. The house itself always starts as its familiar layout, but the further it goes, the stranger it gets, with the hallways leading to more hallways that weren't there before, doors appearing in places they ought not to be and leading to parts of the house that weren't supposed to exist, and more and more rooms simply appearing, rooms that bear a strong resemblance to the rooms she knew from her actual home, but did not actually exist.

As she followed the ghost of her famous ancestor through the door into the golden light, Satoko found herself remembering those dreams, and she wondered if they hadn't just been tricks of the subconscious of a little girl, but instead glimpses to a world that always had laid just beneath the surface of her own, so tantalizingly close and yet completely out of her reach until now.

The light faded, and she, Mokou, and Miko Hakurei all found themselves still standing in the orphanage's halls. The floors were the same, the patterns of the walls were identical, and even the design of the ceiling mirrored the one Satoko always knew. But it was no longer dark and abandoned like it had been mere minutes before. Now the lights were all on, and it was filled with life. All around Satoko came the familiar babble of children's voices mixed with the occasional of an admonishing adult, which had constantly been in the background of her entire life.

"Huh," Mokou said as she looked around. "So…has this always been here?"

Aoki Yume was no longer a pale, transparent shade. Now she had actual form, substance, and color, though there was a shimmering gold aura surrounding her. "Yes," she said. "From the very beginning."

Miko looked troubled. "You know, this sounds like the sort of thing I ought to have known about."

"Blame your forebearers then for not keeping track of things. Three generations of Hakureis were well aware of what I had created. I can only assume that this knowledge was forgotten."

The shrine sucked in a belabored sigh and hissed it out. "See, this is what happens when you don't give your guardians proper funding! We're supposed to be Gensokyo's first line of defense, but we can't even afford proper record keeping!"

"How many times has your shrine been demolished, anyway?" Mokou wondered.

"Oh, don't get me started. Just Mima alone makes a point of knocking it down every time a new shrine maiden takes over, just to prove a point! I've had to rebuild it on four separate occasions!"

Satoko said nothing.

Aoki led them through the house, and the similarities to Satoko's childhood dream only grew. The halls seemed to go on and on, creating enough internal space to fill a palace, and it was all populated. There were children everywhere, the same ghostly children Satoko had seen in the main lobby of her house. But like Aoki, they were no longer shades, and they were no longer standing still and staring with blank faces. Now they were acting like, well, children: running around, playing, napping, and behaving very much like the living children under Satoko's care.

As they walked, Aoki continued to explain. "I guess what you're seeing is self-evident. I founded the Aoki Yume's Children's Home to be the shelter for Gensokyo's lost children." She paused, then then said, "All of them."

"Ah. A home for wayward ghosts then," Miko said.

Aoki nodded. "My father was slain by youkai when I could barely walk. Gensokyo was still young, and there were few Humans. My father, bless him, had heard that that the mountains were filled with silver, and he set out to be the first on the spot. We never heard from him again."

"How do you know it was youkai then?" Miko asked. "I mean, there are other dangers. Storms, regular animals, illness, that sort of thing."

"We knew," Aoki said without explaining further. "We lost my mother not soon after. There was a fever, and we all caught it. I, my brother, and my sister all survived. Mother did not."

Mokou let out a low whistle through her teeth. "Yeah, I know what that's like. Losing your mother to illness."

Though she was listening intently, Satoko was also trying to keep track of where they were going. They had long departed from the original house's layout, and the halls just seemed to stretch on and on. Every now and then they would pass an open door, and Satoko would catch a glimpse of various rooms inside. There were playrooms, similar to the one they had, only these were larger. There were also libraries, filled with children just sitting around reading, sometimes with an adult telling stories to a rapt audience. Others were sleeping rooms, with kids napping (ghosts slept?) on rows of mats on the floor. Other rooms were modestly furnished social rooms, with mostly adults sitting around relaxing. Overall, it was a very nice place, but the deeper they got, the more on edge Satoko became. Just how big was this other house?

"We had nothing," Grandmother Aoki continued. "You have to understand, this was not long after the rampage of Minerva the Youkai Queen, and there were only a handful of Human survivors. The Human Village had not yet been built, the Hakureis had yet to split off from the Sonozikas, and-"

Miko came to an abrupt stop, and Satoko nearly walked straight into her back. "I'm sorry, the Hakureis had yet to what?"

"You didn't know?" Aoki said.

"Know what?" Miko demanded.

Aoki honestly looked bewildered. "You are the Hakurei Shrine Maiden. How can you not know your own family history?"

"We just went over this! Do you know how many times my shrine's been demolished and rebuilt? Do you know how little help we've had with any of that? If we ever had any kind of records, they went up in smoke decades ago!"

"Oh." Aoki's face fell. "I'm sorry, child. I thought you knew."

Miko's teeth were audibly grinding together. "I'm running out of patience here."

"The Hakureis…your family…were originally the Sonozikas," Aoki explained in a gentle tone. "The first Hakurei was a Sonozika, but the family name was changed once you were given your responsibilities."

"Oh," Miko was stunned. "Well. I…had no idea. Though I suppose it makes sense. The Sonozikas always ran the show, so…"

Then her eyes widened with realization.

"Wait," she said, turning to Mokou. "Did you know?"

"I mean, sure," Mokou said causally, hands shoved into her pockets. "It was still pretty common knowledge when I came to Gensokyo."

Miko stared in disbelief. "And you never told me?"

"What do I look like, your nanny? I'm not responsible for your family. If you had asked, I would have told you. But you didn't, so I didn't."

A small, yet noticeable twitch had developed beneath Miko's right eye. "Is that right? And is there any other secrets of my family's history that you are sitting on?"

"The fuck you going on about? I don't keep tabs on your youkai-busting ass. I have my business to worry about."

Satoko wearily raised her hand. "That's enough, please. No arguing right now. I…We really don't need that."

"All right," Mokou said nonchalantly.

There was a pause, and then Miko said in a cold tone, "I suppose I should thank you for not completely exterminating the family line and preventing my eventual birth, by the way."

"You're very welcome," Mokou said in much the same tone.

Satoko was horrified by what was just casually dropped. "You almost exterminated the Sonozikas?"

"Look, you open the book of my life and read a chapter, you're gonna have to go through the whole thing just to get context. Yes, I almost wiped out the Sonozikas, but it was before Gensokyo was even a thing, okay? Besides, they deserved it."

"Arguably," Miko said.

"Look, that's neither here nor now, so let's get back to both of those. Grandmother Aoki, your story?"

Despite being the spectral matron of an inter-dimensional refuge to hundreds of ghosts, Aoki looked fascinated by Mokou and Miko's exchange, which really said a lot about the kind of company Satoko was keeping at the moment. "Ah. Um, right. Well, like I said, we had very few friends. All of the other families were having enough trouble as it was keeping food on their table without taking in three new hungry mouths. My elder sister did the best she could to look after my brother and I, but she was little more than a child herself, and it was a cold winter that year." Aoki's gentle smile thinned out. "One morning, my brother didn't wake up, and it was just the two of us."

As someone who had had several children she cared about go to bed one night and never wake up, Satoko certainly sympathized, especially considering it had been Aoki's brother. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

"Past is past, my dear Satoko. In time we found a farm that was…well, it was what passed for prosperous at that time, though I suppose many modest homesteads today would find it rather scrawny in comparison, and they were willing to give us a place to sleep and food to eat, provided that we work for it." Aoki closed her eyes and sighed. "And work we did. Every day we'd rise with the Sun and spend all day out in the rice fields until long after night had fallen." She paused, and then said, "Even then, my sister always protected me. Every time my legs gave out and I spilled my bags, she took the blame, and the lashings. Every time I was too weak to work, she did my part for me on top of her own. Even when she fell ill with a fever so hot I could feel it radiating off of her, she still worked. And then it was just me."

Mokou clicked her tongue. It was a small gesture, barely perceptible, but Satoko could feel the anger coming off of her. "Say, these assholes that worked your sister to death. They still around?"

"What are you going to do?" Miko said. "Wipe out their descendants?"

"Well…"

"I do not know, nor do I care," Aoki said. "And it doesn't matter. What does is that fate took our parents away, and no one was there to help. So it was then that I promised myself that if I ever lived long enough to reach adulthood, I would allow no other child to suffer as I suffered. I was going to build a home for all of Gensokyo's lost children. And I did."

"The Children's Home, yes," Satoko said as she looked around at the impossible house they were walking through. "But…the ghosts? And…this house?"

Aoki stopped by a door. At first Satoko thought that she was going to show them something inside, but she didn't even open it; she just needed a moment to compose herself. "Three days after my sister died, I came back from…from the fields. They didn't even let me grieve, they just said I now had to do her work on top of mine, so I was out there until it was nearly dawn. And she was there. Right where she used to sleep. Right where she died. She was crying, saying how sorry she was that wasn't strong enough to stay, saying that she had failed me. And…" Aoki shook her head. "They threw me out. They said I had brought a demon into their home. Ghosts weren't as well understood as they are now, you see. So they threw me out and, well, I never found out what they did to my sister's ghost, but I can guess. They killed her twice."

Then she opened the door.

Through it was an indoor garden, or at least it seemed to be indoors. Certainly the walls seemed to surround it, or at least as much as Satoko could tell. If there was a roof, it was very high up, and obscured by wispy white clouds, from which actual sunlight seemed to be emitting. The garden itself was a sight to see, not too dissimilar of those fairy gardens Satoko had heard of existing deep in the more magical forests, with bright and colorful plants, giant mushrooms, and babbling brooks. Gazebos, playhouses, elaborate tree forts, bridges, and randomly assorted furniture were scattered everywhere.

And it was filled with children.

In many way the sight was quite similar to what Satoko saw out through the window or from the porch every day, whenever her kids were out playing in the field. Only this was so, so much more. There were at least several dozens. Hundreds, maybe.

"So as I wandered the Wilds, all alone, that is when I decided," Grandmother Aoki said. "I was going to build a house, and I would take in all of Gensokyo's lost children, both living and dead. And so the Aoki Yume's Children's Home has stood as a sanctuary, an imperfect sanctuary, certainly, but a sanctuary nevertheless. Children who have lost their families are given a home here. And if cruel fate takes their lives as well, then they still have a place to go."

Satoko gawked at the sight. All her life she never once suspected that her house was hiding anything like this, that the spirits of countless dead children were right beneath the surface. "But…the runes! The runes in the foundations! They would have stopped any ghosts from forming, or even coming in!"

"Would they?" Grandmother Aoki said. "Have you ever seen them?"

"Well, no," Satoko admitted. "Of course not. They were buried."

"Then how do you know what they were designed to do?" Grandmother Aoki went through the door. Miko followed her without hesitation, and Mokou wasn't far behind, though she did linger a bit before stepping out onto the grass. Satoko held back longer. It wasn't that she was afraid for her safety per se, but rather that she was starting to feel much like a child herself, the insignificant mortal trespassing where she didn't belong. Grandmother Aoki was a centuries-old-spirit, Miko Hakurei's entire life was spent interacting and earning the respect of supernatural forces, and Mokou was…Mokou. She was just a simple, middle-aged woman. She didn't belong here.

"Satoko?" Grandmother Aoki called. "Come, come, dear. You need to hear this."

Exhaling, Satoko followed. No, she had to keep a sense of perspective. Whatever was needed from her, she would do, for her children's sakes.

Grandmother Aoki led them over to a small wooden deck, where several benches were set up around a lit firepit, the flame within shimmering in blues and purples. Sitting down in one of the benches, Grandmother Aoki held out her hand to the others, inviting her guests to sit as well. Miko Hakurei claimed a whole bench for herself, while Satoko sat down close to Mokou, the only bit of familiarity she had left; which, considering what Mokou was, really said a lot about the direction her life had taken.

"The foundation runes weren't what you thought they were," Grandmother Aoki told them once they were seated. "Certainly they would have kept you safe from hauntings, but they would not have stopped the ghosts from being created. Or kept them out."

Miko nodded. "You created a Domain, a self-contained plane of existence."

"There are two orphanages, two Children's Homes," Grandmother Aoki said, holding up the appropriate number of fingers. "The one is the one you inhabit, where you care for lost Human children. The other is where I do my work." She then stuck her hand right into the fire. Satoko jumped a little at the sudden, seemingly self-destructive motion, but her ancestor wasn't harmed. Instead, she stirred the fires with her finger and pulled them up. A pillar of lavender smoke rose up. It contracted, becoming a sphere. "Gensokyo is a country that lies just beneath the surface of the Outside World, a tiny pocket of reality that few from there can even sense, much less reach. If one were to travel from that world to yours right after Gensokyo's creation, they would find that the two worlds are strikingly similar, with both having the same mountains, the same lakes, the same fields, and the same forests, almost mirror images of one another."

The sphere expanded and opened up like a donut, and within a second, smaller sphere hovered. "However, since then the two worlds have…changed, independent of one another. One drains a lake, while the other expands it. In one a forest is cut down, while in the other it grows to double the size. It is the same here." Both spheres, both the larger and the smaller, then changed shape, both reforming into something Satoko knew very well, the shape of her house. "My orphanage was created the same time as yours, and at one time was identical." The smaller house of smoke left the larger, and floated over hover over Grandmother Aoki's palm. "Every child that has ever perished in your home left a piece that found its way into our care. Every child who died lost and alone out in the Wilds now has a place to go."

She then tossed the small house of smoke into the air, where it suddenly exploded in size, growing into something so much larger than the other house, becoming larger than a palace, larger than a village, large than a city.

As Satoko and Mokou both wrestled with the implications of what Grandmother Aoki was revealing, Miko sat up straight in shock. "Wait, hold up! Are you telling me that all those ghosts you have here are their actual souls, and not just the, you know, leftovers?"

Grandmother Aoki shook her head. She squeezed her fingers into a fist, and all the smoke rushed over to fill her grasp. "Everyone's death is unique, young lady." She opened her hand, and a tiny smoke person formed above it. "Most are taken by the Shinigami, yes, but all leave something behind." A smoke arrow shot the smoke person through the chest, and they died. When that happened, a cloaked figure appeared holding a tiny scythe appeared, and they stuck their hand into the corpse's chest to pull out a second tiny smoke person and lead them off, though not without leaving a wisp of smoke lingering over the corpse. "And every ghost, no matter how troublesome, still retains a piece of the soul they split off from, a piece that, if cared for and loved, will grow into a whole being." The tiny smoke wisp then grew and grew, until they were the same size as the person they had split off from. "They are born knowing nothing but pain and fear, a broken reflection of a poor child's last moments. But there is nothing that says that they have to stay that way."

Miko scowled. "Ever ghost I've ever dealt with has been nothing but malevolent. Even the ones that live long enough to become self-aware have always been hostile."

"When was the last time you had to exterminate a child's ghost?" Grandmother Aoki remarked.

"I…well." Miko frowned. "Very rarely, come to think of it."

Aoki tossed the smoke away, letting it dissipate. She looked over the small paradise she had created, and the generations of children she had gathered. "Those poor creatures you destroyed were wounds in the world, and have known nothing else. There was no one to help them, no one to heal them, so of course they grew into monsters. We are limited in what we can do, but thanks to my most excellent foresight, I was able to ensure that the children had a place to go at least."

Mokou raised her hand, just like one of their kids in class. "Right, okay, so let me see if I got this straight: you're the ghost of the original Yume, the one who built the orphanage. But you also did some kind of magicy mumbo jumbo to create another orphanage on the same space, only in the spiritual realm, and you've gathered every ghost of every kid to ever die in Gensokyo?"

"Not every person that dies leaves a ghost, Miss Fujiwara. Not even the majority. And I only have here all those I could reach," Grandmother Aoki said. "Those who died in the Wilds, anyway. Those within the villages are usually…dealt with." Her face turned sour.

"Okay, but point is, all this time there's been like a shit-ton of ghosts living…or whatever you do…right there with us."

"That is essentially correct."

Mokou leaned back with her legs crossed and folded her hands over her knee. "And I'm guessing that when some jackass took our wards down, it also hit whatever it was that kept your world and ours separate."

Grandmother Aoki looked toward Satoko. "Your monster is quite intelligent, Granddaughter. Do not let her slip away. But yes, that is correct. Our respective houses are now bleeding into one another, and if the separation is not restored, then I fear for both of our survival."

"Oh," Satoko said. "Well, all right. Another problem." Her hands, neatly folded in her lap, began to shake. "Skinner wasn't enough. Sonozika wasn't enough. Being exiled wasn't enough. The spiders weren't enough. Eiko's ghost wasn't enough. The curse wasn't enough. Now this. On top of everything else, we now have this."

"Ah, yes," Grandmother Aoki said. "The curse. That reminds me."

"Damn it, that was not an invitation to add more!"

"I got a whiff of it outside," Miko said. "What is it?"

Grandmother Aoki's countenance darkened. "I do not know. Since my passing, I have remained here, and much of what goes on in Gensokyo is a mystery to me. But whatever it is, it stinks of death."

"You would know, wouldn't you?" Mokou remarked.

"Don't be snide. Death is death, and most forms are perfectly natural, even the horrible ones. But this…" Grandmother Aoki shook her head. "This is not natural. It is more than the cessation of life. Granddaughter, I have seen death. I have felt death. I live in death. But that thing? It is unlike anything I have ever touched. It is evil. Not just dangerous, but evil, an evil that is very old, very cold, and desires nothing but harm."

"You got all that from its stench?"

"Didn't you?"

Mokou leaned back and tapped her finger against her mouth in thought. She said nothing.

As for Satoko, though she was not a person given often to self-pity, it was hard not to indulge in it now.

Why her? Why did…no, not that. Not her. Why them? Why was so much bad happening to her kids? And why all at once? They didn't deserve this; no one did, especially not a group of orphaned children! How could the world be so cruel to do this to them?

"All right," Mokou said at last. "Things suck, but we can deal with it point by point. For you guys, we have to dig up the foundations and restore the runes, right? Then your house and ours won't be melting into one another, correct?"

"That is so," Grandmother Aoki confirmed.

"Good. That's one solution. And while we're busy with that…" Mokou looked over to Miko Hakurei. "Can you handle the curse?"

"Hmmm." Miko's brow furrowed. "Well, I'll have to get a closer look at it first. Which, obviously, will not be fun, but I've dealt with some pretty big curses in the past." Then she wrinkled her nose. "I guess if worst comes to worst, there's some people I can call upon to help."

"You don't look very enthusiastic about it," Mokou observed.

"I'm not. It's someone I'm not exactly on…speaking terms with right now. Still, if this is as bad as the ghosts says, which it probably is, then I should be able to drag her out of bed for this."

"Which just leaves us Skinner and his crew," Mokou said. "Vanilla mortals." She snorted. "Yeah, but they'll be the most complicated ones."

"I'm sorry," Grandmother Aoki said, her face screwing up in confusion. "Skinner?"

Mokou dismissively waved her hand. "This asshole from the Human Village that's been a royal bloody hemorrhoid for us. We're pretty sure he's the guy who cooked our wards."

"Ah. Well, I see that most of our fell Humans are just as cold-hearted and despicable as they were when I was alive," Grandmother Aoki said. "Still, while I do not envy you, at least you know the road ahead of you." She then looked to Satoko. "Granddaughter?"

Satoko breathed in and slowly exhaled. Her deceased ancestor was right. At least now they had an idea of what to do. She couldn't afford to wallow in her own misery. Her children needed her. Her fellow caretakers needed her. She had to be strong. For them.

Standing up, she said, "Well, you showed us what you wanted us to see. So I suppose we'd better get to work."

Love is patient. Love is kind.

Of all of Joshua Stump's qualities, the two that had been the most refined over the years was his patience and his tolerance. He was slow to anger; he had to be. There had once been a time when that had not been the case, and it had cost him everything several times over. Building himself back up from the wreck he had been had taken time, endurance, and failure after failure. In time, and with the help of his Lord Jesus Christ, he had learned to wait, to think on his actions, and to let even the hardest of tasks play themselves out and see past that hardship.

Likewise, tolerance had been a lifelong lesson. He had seen the deepest dredges of humanity, both around him every time he had woken up feeling like shit, and whenever he looked into the mirror. The years he had spent weaning off the pills and the drink had given him empathy and understanding for those at their lowest, and wisdom to see the person behind the fist.

It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

It had served him well after getting stuck in Gensokyo, and the years since had only added to it. Coming to grips with having his entire understanding of reality upturned had taken time, as had needing to reconcile his beliefs with the local state of things. He never lost faith in his God, but he had to admit, actually meeting and speaking to actual deities and demons made him question things on more than one occasion.

To that regard, deciding to devote his life to the orphanage and its wards had done him no end of good. Helping care for the children gave his life purpose, and his experiences meant that even the most trying child wasn't nearly as bothersome as they would be to most. He was doing good work now, and it had been a long time since had been genuinely angry.

But even with his nearly limitless patience and unending tolerance, there were still a few things capable of making him see red.

And Nathaniel Skinner's followers were swiftly rising to the top of that list.

It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking.

When he heard the commotion from the others in their makeshift camp, he had first thought that it was something coming from the house (ghosts! Now ghosts were a thing! He had always heard of them of course, but there was a vast difference of being assured that ghosts were real and having one wake you with its screaming), but then he turned from the conversation he had been having with Shion to see some infuriatingly familiar figures gathered at the gate.

"Oh, you cannot be serious," Shion whispered.

Joshua said nothing. He licked his lips and made a low rumbling sound from deep within his chest.

"Are they back?" Haruhi said as she jogged over to the two. "Already?"

"Sure as hell looks like it," Shion told her.

Haruhi swallowed. "Th-Then we'd better go get Satoko. And Mokou!"

"They're still in the house," Joshua said, not taking his eyes from the intruders. "Dealing with the ghost."

"Oh. Then what do we…"

Joshua started to stride forward.

"…uh, Joshua? Josh? Where are…Josh!"

It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

The blood was pounding in Joshua's ears, that old, familiar percussion. His war drums, he used to call them, back when their presence had been almost constant. Nowadays they served as a warning, a sign that Joshua needed to take a few steps back from whatever situation he was in and calm himself.

Not now though. Now he welcome them like the old friends that they were.

Skinner's men were gathered at the gate. There was only three of them this time, with the tall man that had served as Seiya Kirisame's minder now in the lead. He was a tall, young man, thin of frame and dark of hair, with a hawkish nose and piercing gold eyes.

As Joshua approached, he looked up and smiled. "Ah, Brother Joshua Stump! We've never formally met, but Brother Nathaniel had always been-"

"Get out," Joshua said.

The leader raised an eyebrow. "Get out? But we are out!" He nudged the gate with his foot. "We haven't set foot on your-"

"No," Joshua growled. "No word games, no runarounds. You are not welcome here, and you know why. So leave. Now."

"Hmmm." The leader glanced to his two companions and sighed. "All right, look: I know you have every reason to be upset with us, but shouldn't you at least hear what we have to say before you banish us? It's only the Christian thing to-"

He was standing quite close to the fence, which only went up to his waist. So Joshua had no problem reaching across with two meaty hands and seizing him by the lapels of his robe.

"-ah?"

Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices in the truth.

Then Joshua pulled, hauling the man right off his feet and over the fence.

"Ah!"

The average Gensokyian man was a fair bit shorter than what Joshua had been used to seeing in America, and he was short even by Gensokyian standards. However, he was strong, and he knew how to make use of his strength, mass, leverage, and weight. So even if the man was a full foot and a half taller than him, when Joshua decided that he was going to forcibly bring him over the fence, then he was going.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Before the man could regain his composure, Joshua swung him around so that his spine slammed into the gate. "Now you're on our side," Joshua hissed. "That makes you a trespasser. So get the fuck out."

If the man had known Joshua a little better, he might have been more taken back by the severity of the profanity than any promise of violence. Still, judging by the look in his eyes, Joshua was fairly certain that he got the point across.

It was very strange for Mokou to walk through the other orphanage, perhaps moreso than for the other two women. For Miko it was probably just another day on the job, maybe a little more memorable than most but far from the strangest thing she had ever experienced, whereas Satoko had never really had to deal with anything more magical than the Gensokyo's everyday variety, certainly never anything on this level, so it was definitely a lifechanging event for her.

But for Mokou, though she refused to show it, the whole experience left her constantly on edge.

Mokou was immortal; but not only that, she was very immortal, one that stood out even in a country full of immortals. To her, Death was simultaneously alien and familiar, something she had experienced countless times but would never truly know. Over the centuries, her body had expired and her brain shut down over and over again, and yet she had never, ever even got a glimpse of what lay on the other side. She was a frequent loiterer at the gates of Death, one that would never be permitted through, to the extent that even Komachi the Shinigami, whom Mokou had worked with a few times in the past, had declared her to be a "Total weirdo."

As such, actually setting foot and walking through what was, for all intents and purposes, a tiny, self-contained afterlife just felt bizarre. She was not supposed to be there, and both she and the other orphanage knew it. The air crackled around her in an unpleasant way, and every step with her bare feet tingled. It was only through the explicit invitation of the shade of Aoki Yume that she was permitted at all, and even that was given grudgingly.

She couldn't wait to get out of there. Yes, the visit was very interesting and the information given to them was very important, all well and good, but once their business had wrapped up, she was very eager to take her leave and never come back.

Even so, as Aoki Yume led them back to the world of the living, she saw something that made her pause.

"Hey," she said, nudging Satoko in the side. "Check it out."

They were passing by a conjunction in the hallway, and down the other route she saw the ghost of an older woman leading the ghost of a young girl away by the hand.

The girl was Eiko Goto.

The two of them stopped and stared. Though they knew that it wasn't really their Eiko, it was still part of her.

"Does she know us?" Satoko asked.

Though the question was spoken in a near-whisper, Eiko must have sensed that she was being watched, as she paused and turned to look over her shoulder at them.

"Vaguely," Aoki told her. "She was born from your Eiko's final moments, not her entire life. She has flashes of old memories and feelings, but in time those fade like a dream."

A look of pain passed over Satoko's face. "So, everyone I recognized…like Kale and Tobi…they wouldn't know me."

"No," Aoki said. "I'm sorry."

Mokou frowned. "You seem to have a full working set of memories though."

"I'm different. As I prepared for death, I made sure that my soul would be bound to my shade, so that I might stay and continue my work. I am all of Aoki Yume."

That drew Miko's attention. "A ghost with a soul," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Like Mima."

Madam Mima was in many ways the most persistent threat Gensokyo faced and was most certainly the ancestral nemesis of the Hakurei family. A centuries-old ghostly sorceress, she had plotted to overthrow or destroy Gensokyo on numerous occasions, and had come closer than any other villain to pulling it off. More than one of the Hakurei Shrine Maidens had fallen at her hand, and every single one had faced off against her at one time or another.

As for Mokou, she also had encountered Mima a handful of times over the years, and not always in antagonistic fashion, some of which she was glad that Miko didn't know about.

Aoki, however, just looked lost. "I'm sorry, who?"

Miko choked. "Excuse me? Who? Mima? Madam Mima? Are you seriously asking me who Madam Mima is?"

Aoki sniffed. "I have existed within a sub-dimension within an isolated orphanage for literal centuries, Miss Hakurei. The comings and goings of Gensokyo don't often reach us."

"Yeah, sure, but…Mima! She's been around forever! You know, ghostly spirit, green hair, pointy blue hat, real bitch?" When that failed to register any recognition, Miko pressed on. "Uh…Evil Spirit of Makai? Headed up the Serpentine Marauders? Grand Sorceress of the Order of the Poison Sky? Any of those ringing any bells?"

Aoki's stare remained blank.

"Oh, come on! She's only the biggest mass murderer in Gensokyo, and the one with the longest longevity! You have got to have several of her victims living here with you!"

"Memories don't carry over very well," Aoki said. "I'm sure their former selves know of all you're speaking of, but my children have forgotten most details."

"Mima's not a detail, she's a…a whole fucking point! As if in, one of the biggest!"

As the two argued, Mokou cast a long look over to Satoko, who was gazing longingly over to the young ghost staring back at them.

"Excuse us for a minute," Mokou muttered. Then she nudged Satoko with her elbow and tilted her head down the hall. Satoko nodded, and the two made their way toward the two spirits.

Neither Eiko nor her caretaker reacted much as the two living women approached them. Frankly, it was kind of unnerving. In life, Eiko had been a lot of things, but nonresponsive was definitely not one of them.

"Hey, do you mind?" Mokou said to the ethereal woman holding Eiko by the hand.

The ghost glowered. "If you attempt to harm her…"

"We won't," Mokou promised her. "Hell, I'm not sure that we could." The caretaker glanced down at Eiko, released her hand, and stepped back.

Satoko knelt on the floor in front of the child. "Um…Eiko," she said. "Do you remember me? It's Miss Satoko."

In life, Eiko had been a short and feisty girl with strawberry blonde hair that she kept tied back in a spiky bun, bright scarlet eyes, and a face full of freckles. That much remained true, except now she had an ethereal shimmer around her, even moreso than the other ghosts. And there was an odd transparency to her skin, one that none of the other ghosts Mokou had seen possessed.

There was no hint of recognition on Eiko's face as she gazed up at them, but she at least seemed to register their presence. She tilted her head to one side and stared.

"How about me?" Mokou said. "You know, Miss Mokou? The cook? Busted you sneaking into my kitchen plenty of times."

"And your friends! Haruko and Hayate. Do you remember them?" Satoko implored. "They miss you, Eiko."

Finally just the barest trace of a reaction passed through Eiko's eyes. She slowly tilted her head the other way, her forehead bunching up in the slightest of frowns.

"Fffff…" she started to say.

Satoko eagerly leaned in closer. "Yes?"

Then Eiko's skin faded, becoming fully translucent. Beneath it, Mokou saw hundreds of tiny black beads moving through her body, crawling right beneath the surface.

Spiders. She was full of spiders.

Then her skin regained color, thankfully hiding what was beneath. "…ffffrrrriiiieeeennnndssss?" Eiko said.

To Satoko's credit, the unexpected glimpse at what lay beneath only caused the slightest of winces. "Yes. Friends," she said. "Do you remember them?"

"Frrrieeennndssss," Eiko said again, musing on the word. Her voice sounded…wrong, very wrong. Like there was five Eikos, each one feeling a different emotion, and all were speaking at once.

Mokou laid a hand on Satoko's shoulder. "Maybe we'd better not," she whispered.

"But-"

The skin surrounding Eiko's mouth was starting to stretch, and something was wriggling inside. "Fffffrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeennnnn…"

Then the caretaker abruptly pulled her away. "That's enough," she said. "I know why you wanted to speak to her, but you're done. She is still young and delicate."

"I'm sorry," Satoko said. She felt shaken to her core. Grandmother Aoki had been so, well, Human, and all those children had seemed fairly normal save for their slight glow, that she had almost forgotten how Eiko's ghost had awoken them a few nights prior.

Without another word, the caretaker led Eiko away.

"It's hard, I know," Grandmother Aoki said as she walked up to Satoko. "Having to say goodbye twice."

Satoko slowly nodded. "Will she-" Her voice caught, and she tried again. "Will she ever, uh, remember?"

"No. In time what vague bits she has will also vanish, but that will allow her new self to grow. It's better that way."

"Oh. Ah, you are going to take care of her, right?"

"Of course I am. Now let's get you three home. There are matters among the living that require your attention."

It was one thing to be cursed.

It was something else entirely to be cursed and know that you were cursed, to be constantly aware of why the blood running through your veins now ran colder than it had, why your hand and arm tingled every time you moved it, and why a dark and malevolent voice whispered to you from deep within your mind.

On the one hand, it certainly made things scarier to not only know what was wrong with you, but that it was also the worst case scenario. It wasn't just some odd illness or your stressed-out mind playing tricks on you. Some kind of malicious magic had taken root in your soul, and it was slowly killing you from within.

On the other hand, it did make things…simpler.

And when Rumia saw the assholes responsible for all of her problems once again show up at her home to rub their ugly, smug noses in the mess they had created, her only thought was that Miss Mokou had isolated her and the other cursed kids away from everyone else for a reason, and she had found the perfect test subjects on which to figure out exactly what that reason was.

As she neared the little camp that she wasn't allowed to be a part of, the other kids saw her coming and immediately scattered. She didn't care. She heard someone calling for help, calling for someone to stop her. She didn't care. She heard Haruko yelling at her from somewhere behind her, telling her not to do it, that she would only make things worse. She didn't care. She had eyes only for her prey.

At the moment, her prey was actually being set upon by someone else. It was the carpenter, the follower of the White God. He had one of her prey by the lapels and was shouting at him while the other two rushed to their comrade's defense. Well, good for him, but he presented a problem. He would stop her.

Then again, he only had the two hands, and both of them were occupied with a single man. That did leave two others.

Give in.

She didn't, not fully, but she did dip in a little further, accepting a trickle of cold strength. It flowed into her limbs, making her stronger, faster, more agile. Her speed increased, and she was practically flying across the field.

Then the carpenter stopped wrestling. He must have sensed her coming, just like the shrine maiden, just like the immortal. He turned toward her, his dark, angry eyes going wide with alarm.

He was too late.

She bunched up her legs, crouching down low. And then she leapt.

This time, when Satoko, Mokou, and Miko passed from the other orphanage into their own, the house was as dark, quiet, and empty as it was supposed to be. With both the living and the dead gone, it felt abandoned, a lonely corpse of a home.

And if something wasn't done soon, that was exactly what it would become.

"You know, as weird as all that was, we're actually in a better place than we were," Mokou said as the three made their way to the front door.

"Yeah?" Miko said. "And how's that?"

"Well, now we know what we gotta do. You take care of that curse, while we dig up the foundations and figure out the runes we need to restore. We can have everything supernatural sorted by midnight, which just leaves us-."

"Mokou. Shut up," Miko said harshly. "Right now."

"Huh?"

The aging shrine maiden slowly breathed in and exhaled. "I appreciate that your…durability and, ah, uncomplicated choices in lifestyle might have made you forgot the necessity of luck in such matters, but not all of us are guaranteed to make it through this in one piece."

"Your point?"

"My point is that I would greatly appreciate it if you wouldn't say or do anything that would attract the attention of anything that might wish to screw us over for a laugh."

Mokou snorted. "Really, Miko? Superstition? You?"

"Yes, Fujiwara! In case you've forgotten, I happen to be the expert in these things! And I would appreciate it very fucking much if you wouldn't chance it! So. Keep. Your. Mouth. Shut!"

"Do you two hear that?" Satoko wondered out loud.

The three were in the main room, close to the door. Miko and Mokou stopped their argument to turn their attention toward the house's proprietor.

"Hear what?" Miko said.

"Shhh." Mokou held up a hand. "Listen."

From somewhere a distance away outside, they could hear the sound of raised voices, and frantic ones at that. At least one person was screaming, maybe more than one.

"Really?" Mokou said. "We leave for half an hour, and already things go wrong?"

"I told you!" Miko hissed. "I did!"

Satoko didn't bother to join in their spat. She just ran.

She burst through the front door and out into the sunlight. After spending so much time in either the dark or the strange, ghostly lighting of the other orphanage, the Sun's natural light was almost like a physical barrier at first, and it made her reel. She blinked several times to clear away the spots and tried to make sense of the field of blurs that passed for her sight.

As her vision cleared, so did the situation. The camp was nearly abandoned, and now almost everyone was gathered near the gate. There, she saw Joshua and Haruna struggling with…someone. It looked like one of the kids, and they were trying to pull her off of…

Brown robes. There were three people Satoko recognized, and they all had brown robes.

They were back.

Satoko's fear and distress smoothed themselves out, making way for a piping hot serving of rage.

"Hey, wait a minute," Mokou said as she joined Satoko on the front porch. "Ain't those-"

"Yes," Satoko said, and she leapt, taking flight and soaring less than a meter over the grass, zipping straight toward the commotion.

The child Joshua and Haruna were struggling with turned out to be Rumia, which was both distressing and entirely unsurprising. One of the brown-robed men was recoiling back, holding onto his arm while one of his companions pulled him back through the open gate. As for the rest of Satoko's household, they were all gathered in a group close enough to see everything that was going on but far enough not to be hit by anything. The children were all shouting words of encouragement for Rumia and jeers at the brown-robed men, a scene that reminded uncomfortably of the riot at the market.

Later. She would deal with that later. For now, she had someone else to deal with first.

Despite Rumia's bloodthirsty thrashing, Joshua and Haruna had managed to drag her a fair distance away from the trespassers, so Satoko somersaulted in midair and landed on her feet right between the two parties. "What," she demanded, her voice ringing through the air, "is the meaning of this?!"

The shouting all stopped at once, and the gaggle of children immediately looked shamefaced. Not so much with the trespassers.

One of the brown-robed men, one that Satoko recognized from the group that had crashed Eiko's funeral, thrust a hand at Rumia. "That little monster bit Rito on the arm!"

Sure enough, the man identified as Rito had the long sleeve of his robe rolled up, and there were visible puncture marks that were bleeding freely. As for Rumia, she had a bloody smear all across her face. And the way she was staring at Rito's neck said that she wanted more.

"And this Outsider assaulted me!" the speaker continued, now pointing out Joshua. "I wished only to talk, and he seized me and pulled me over the fence!"

The surprise was almost enough to make Satoko forget her anger. "Joshua?" she said, turning toward the man in question. This sort of thing was to be expected from Rumia, but not him.

For his part, Joshua at least looked a little ashamed. "It's true," he said. "But after what they had done-"

"They deserved it!" Tomohiro shouted.

"Yeah! Hit 'em again!" Yoshi threw in.

"Kids' got a point," Mokou said as she came in for a sudden landing. "If Josh hadn't, then I would." Her hand bunched into a fist, making the knuckles pop. "Hell, I just might anyway."

"You!" the speaker gawked.

"Me," Mokou agreed. "What, did that fireball not get the point across? You. Are. Not. Welcome. Here!"

Satoko found herself suddenly torn. Under normal circumstances, she would be sharply admonishing her children and caretakers. Violence was to be abhorred, no matter who it was enacted against. On the other hand, these might just be the exceptions to the rule, especially considering what they did at the funeral.

Then, before, her better sense could motivate her to keep things from devolving further, her internal alarm bells went off. At the same time, sounds of dismay rose up from those gathered. Something was coming.

She turned to see the rest of the cursed children heading over and everyone else quickly making way for them. And the way they were approaching sent chills down her spine.

They weren't running. They weren't even moving quickly. Rather, they were striding forward in a relaxed, but determined, gait. There was purpose in their steps, no anger, no fear, no real emotion at all. And they were all walking in perfect synchronization. Even Kana, who had stopped coughing.

And the way that all their faces were focused on the brown-robed men told her what that purpose was.

"Wait, stop!" Satoko said, placing herself in front of them. They ignored her.

"Kohta! Hayate? Listen to me: go back right now!"

They didn't so much as look at her.

Sighing, Mokou pushed Satoko aside and took her place. "All right, if this is how it goes," she said. "Don't want to hurt you, but…" Then she frowned. "Hey, wait. Why are we stopping them? Because I'm thinking we should just let them clean house and be done with it."

"Are you mad?" Satoko demanded. "You're going to let our children commit murder?"

There was a pause, and then Mokou said, "Fuck, good point. Hey, Shion?"

Nodding, Shion stepped forward and held her hand out. The air in front of the marching children began to shimmer.

They walked right into the disruption of reality, and for a moment their bodies jiggled and warped like they were being seen through a glass of water.

Then the disruption collapsed, and Shion reeled back with a cry of pain. The cursed continued to move forward.

"Rumia?" Joshua said. "Rumia, wait! What are you doing?"

Satoko looked. The little girl had gripped both of Joshua's big arms with her hands and was slowly prying them apart. Though he ought to have been able to hold her with ease, she was slowly forcing his arms open, all the while not taking her eyes off the dumbstruck intruders.

Then, before violence could finally erupt, a voice shouted out from above, "IMPRISONMENT SIGN: ISOLATION WHEEL!"

A bolt of energy struck the ground in the middle of everyone, and Satoko was suddenly blown back, helpless as a leaf in a whirlwind. She lost sight of everything as her vision filled with colors, mainly hot scarlets twisting against sparkling violets and blinding whites.

When she could see again, she found herself in a most peculiar situation.

She was hovering in the sky, which wasn't too odd, considering that she could fly. What was odd was that she wasn't flying, but was hanging suspended by what appeared to be a large bubble. What was more, she was sharing it with Joshua, Shion, Haruhi, and Haruna, all of them just as perplexed as she was.

Satoko peered out through the bubble's skin. The best she could tell, there was now a huge glowing six-pointed star hovering several meters above the ground, and at the end of each point was a bubble. She and the other caretakers were in one, the brown-robed men had one of their own, the cursed children were all in one, the untainted kids were separated into two bubbles, and Mokou was by herself in the last.

The star was slowly rotating, the bubbles and their prisoners traveling with it, and in the center of it all floated Miko Hakurei. The shrine maiden had her arms folded over her chest and was glaring at everyone like an irritated schoolteacher.

Miko was pissed. Granted, it didn't take much to anger her, and the things that tended to anger her happened on a nearly daily basis, but uppity youkai were one thing. Uppity Humans had a real way of getting under her skin.

"You know, I'm used to jobs taking stupid turns and becoming stupidly complicated, but this is a whole new level of stupid," she said crossly. "The fuck is the matter with you all?"

The one doing the speaking for the intruders stared at her. "I'm sorry," he said. "Who are you?"

"Miko Hakurei," she said. "Your turn."

"Miko Hakurei?! As if in, the Hakurei Shrine Maiden?!"

"Yeah, and if any of you had ever taken a trip to my shrine like you're supposed to, we would've-"

"What are you doing?!" he cried. "You're supposed to be protecting Humans!"

Miko glanced around. "And would you take a look at that: I've protected you. there you are, safe and sound. You probably don't deserve it, but I don't usually have the luxury of discriminating."

"They attacked us!"

"Yes, that's what usually happens when troublemakers show up in places where they're not welcome. Didn't you already get kicked out before? And with good reason too. Crashing a dead kid's funeral. My oh my, and they say I have no manners." Without waiting for an answer, Miko looked from one face to the next. "Let's see…you might not know me on sight, but I do know you. You're Rito Kirisame, correct? Son of the shopkeeper? And…that unfortunate victim of an angry little girl would be Satoshi Yuuki, the weaver's son. And your foreign friend would be Robert Forester."

Rito Kirisame's eyes narrowed. "How do you know who we are?"

Miko glanced over to Mokou's bubble. The entrapped immortal seemed like she was enjoying the spectacle and was leaning back against the bubble's wall with her hands in her pockets with a savage grin on her face.

"I got a tip that a new religion of assholes was busy making trouble for a bunch of orphans," Miko said. "So I looked into it. Sure enough, there is. And when I popped over here to scope things out, what do I find? Sabotaged wards, youkai attacks, and invading evil spirits." All of that was technically true, though it would be better if they didn't know the full details. "They get attacked in the village market and banished, and then someone decides to take down all of their protection charms, and then a group of youkai from the Youkai Forest gets stirred up into attacking them, and while they're still burying their dead, someone decided to set a bunch of evil spirits loose in their house, forcing an evacuation. And when I showed up to try to clean things up, who should show up but the same pricks who started the whole thing? I'd say you got off light. I woulda been tempted to take a chomp out of you too."

A cheer went up from the two bubbles holding the uninfected kids. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Miko felt a small twinge of gratitude. It was nice to be appreciated.

Nathaniel Skinner's three acolytes, however, weren't so appreciative. In fact, they had all gone quite pale. "Are you suggesting that we had anything to do with that?" Rito said. "Preposterous! I pr-promise you-"

"Don't," Miko said. "And I haven't suggested anything, just pointing out how things look. You've done everything to make yourself an enemy of…orphans. Of orphans! Now you dare show your faces here again?"

Rito swallowed. "We came to…"

"Yes?" Mokou hissed.

"To apologize. That's why we're here. To apologize."

The world went silent.

Miko hovered in place, glaring through narrowed eyes at her captives while her mind raced. Well now, this was an unexpected turn. Not that she believed it for a moment. Those emboldened by misguided self-righteousness never admitted wrong, and were often shameless in their manipulative tactics. Besides, nothing was ever that easy.

But even so, one of the many things she had learned in a lifetime of dealing with beings more powerful and more cleverer than herself was that a change in tactics meant a change in the enemy's situation. Something was up, and if recent history was any indication, it most likely did not bode well for the residents of the Aoki Yume's Children's Home.

"Repeat that," she growled. "Slowly."

Rito Kirisame looked her dead in the eye. He drew himself up to his full height and said, "Brother Nathaniel has-"

"No, wait," Miko interrupted. "Not like this."

She snapped her fingers, and the spinning star-wheel vanished. The bubbles containing the residents of the Aoki Yume's Children's Home all drifted down onto the grass and popped, releasing them. At the same time, the bubble holding the robe-wearers took them to the other side of the fence, outside of the orphanage's territory, before releasing them.

Miko came down to stand on one of the gate posts. "All right," she said. "You have your audience. Speak your message."

For one moment, one so very brief moment, Rito Kirisame glanced at Miko with a look of utter hatred. Had Miko not been staring straight at him, she would have missed it, as a moment later Rito bowed his neck and shoulders, as if weighed down by guilt, as a look of remorse and sorrow covered his face.

"We have come on behalf of the First Gensokyo Baptist Fellowship," he said, raising his voice so all could hear. "And Brother Nathaniel Skinner, to apologize for our overzealous and needlessly cruel treatment of the children of the Aoki Yume's Children's Home."

"Excuse me?" Satoko said as she strode forward. Credit had to be given, for someone who was unused to this sort of thing and had been frightened several times over the last few hours, she was still standing. "You have done nothing but demean and isolate us. You've actively tried to cut us off from our neighbors, you trespassed when we were burying one of our own, and now you're…sorry?"

"You say nothing untrue, Lady Yume," Rito said solemnly. "In our struggles against the forces of darkness, we listened to fear and struck against innocents. Even our Lord Jesus Christ spoke out against taking up the sword against children, and we still failed. For that I offer no excuse."

Mokou scowled. "Well, isn't that sweet. Tell me: what brought this change of heart? Because I've met Skinner all of once, and even I could tell that he's not the sort of guy to just change his mind."

"You do not know Brother Nathaniel like I do. Believe me, he can be hasty, but will always seek to right his wrongs."

Miko glanced first over to Joshua Stump, who was sighed and pressing two fingertips to his forehead, and then to Mokou, who was openly rolling her eyes. It was clear that neither were buying what Rito Kirisame was selling, nor should they.

Then she looked over to Satoko, whose face was cold, yet neutral. The wheels in her head were turning, and Miko would bet a lot of money that she was reaching many of the same conclusions.

"Your message has been delivered," Satoko said coldly. "Now leave."

"Ah, well, we were hoping for a response to take back…"

"You have it. But if need something to take back to Skinner, then tell him this: we have heard his words and will take them under consideration. But we will contact him, not the other way around, and only when the time is right. Do not send anyone else, do not try to pressure an answer out of us. Let us decide in our own time, and until then, leave us alone!"

At this, Rito Kirisame's eyes narrowed. "That is not-"

Mokou curled her hands into fists. Her fingers started to glow like heated fireplace pokers while the air around them shimmered with heat.

Rito swallowed. "Er, ah, I mean, understood. We will…We will depart in peace."

"Good," Satoko said. She rolled her wrist in the direction of the road. "Then get to it."

Skinner's acolytes all glanced at each other. Then they turned and hurried down the road before leaping into the air and flying off.

Everyone silently watched them leave until they had disappeared over the horizon.

Then everyone started talking at once.

Everyone, from the children to the caretakers, all started shouting, questioning, crying, and just filling the air with voices, all of them demanding attention, all of them wanting everything from an explanation, answers, comfort, to just…noise.

Shaking her head, Mokou stuck her pinkies into her mouth and whistled loudly. That shut everyone up.

"All right, everyone," she said. "Listen up! Yes, we are still in a lot of trouble. However, we think we now know how to fix a few of our problems. But no, we don't trust those assholes for a second. However, before we can deal with them, we need to handle our problems here and home. Fortunately, we now know more about those, so we can get started taking care of them. But in the meantime, we're going to need all of you to stay patient and stay calm!"

"But the ghost!" Shinji cried. "What about the ghost?"

"What did you do to her?" Hayate demanded. "What did you do to Eiko?"

"Uh, yeah! That's part of it." Mokou glanced over to Satoko. "Satoko, can you explain things? Me and Miko have a lot of work to do."

"Of course," Satoko said wearily. "Thank you."

As Satoko faced her household to try to explain why their home had suddenly become so haunted, Mokou went over to Miko, and, without a word, the two of them went off by themselves to have some measure of privacy.

"So," Mokou said. "I suppose some delegation is called for."

Miko nodded. "Agreed. I'll focus on the curse. You and the other caretakers can dig up the foundations and restore the runes."

"Close," Mokou said. "They can deal with the runes. I'm going to deal with our…mortal problems."

At this, Miko's eyes narrowed. "You realize that if you try to murder a Human, I might have to do something about it, right?"

"Even if that Human hired youkai to murder children?"

Miko's lips thinned out.

"And he's protected by the Human Leader? So, mortal justice would be straight out."

Miko breathed out through clenched teeth. "Don't do this to me, Mokou. Don't ask me to look the other way."

Mokou shrugged.

"I'm serious. I hate the asshole too, but-"

"Not nearly as much as I do," Mokou said.

"You don't even know for sure if he's behind it."

"Yeah, I do." Then Mokou's lips lifted in a terrifying smile. "But fine, I wasn't going to move against him right away. I still have a little digging to do, and I'm not doing anything until I have proof. And hey, if it makes you feel better, I'll run my response by you so you can help me workshop it into something that offend your delicate mortal sensibilities. How's that sound?"

"Bullshit," Miko said. "You'll just do whatever you feel is necessary, no matter what I say."

Mokou shrugged.

"And how exactly do you plan on getting this proof? It's not like you're exactly welcome in the Human Village."

"Oh, well," Mokou said. "I have…a source."

There was a shed near the back of the orphanage's property. In it was stored Joshua's gardening and maintenance tools, repair supplies, the wagon, and other odds and ends needed to keep the old house in a livable state.

Furthermore, there was a basement, and in that basement were several bags of rice, barrels of dried vegetables, and other foodstuffs that would keep for a long time.

It was into that basement Mokou headed, in the dead of the night, when everyone was either sleeping or trying to.

She hadn't been followed. She had made sure of that, and there was no in her household that was even capable of following her without her noticing. Which was good, as this wasn't something she wanted the kids to see.

Mokou opened the shed, the rusty hinges on the old, weathered wood doors creaking. She looked around the darkened structure, at the silhouettes of bags, barrels, and tools. She blinked once, and her eyes took on a distinct scarlet glow, allowing her to see as easily in the shadows as she could in the light.

There was no one else in the shed. Her secret had been undiscovered.

Good.

Closing the door behind her, she walked over to the trap door in the ground. Kneeling down, she grabbed onto the iron rings and pulled it open, revealing a rough wooden staircase that descended into the earth.

The sound of raspy, pained breathing could then be heard, coming from the hole.

Mokou descended the steps. As she did, she noted with some amusement that she was now on level with the corpses of many of those ghosts she had just met. The graveyard wasn't too far from the shed, and the shed's basement was more-or-less on level with many of the bodies that had been buried.

Rather fitting, considering what she intended to do.

As she went down further, the troubled breathing grew louder. Mokou stepped off the stairs and onto the cool dirt ground. She walked past rows of barrels and burlap bags, heading to the far end.

She reached one barrel in particular, stowed in the far corner of the basement. It was from within the barrel that the breathing could be heard.

Without a word Mokou pulled the lid off the barrel. Within was a shapeless form wrapped up in a black sheet tied with rope. She seized it and yanked it out. As she did, she heard a muffled cry of surprise and fear.

Mokou dragged the lump to the center of the room and tossed it one-handed onto the floor. She seized the sheet with both hands and ripped it open to dump its contents onto the ground.

It was the male spider-youkai. Well, most of him, at least.

He was naked, his once-pale skin now black, purple, and blue with bruises and burns and glistening with sweat and other fluids. What was more, he was now missing all of his limbs, his arms, legs, and even his penis all gone, leaving nothing but blackened circles where they had been, cauterized by Mokou's fire. His slobbering mouth was gagged by several layers of tape, but his eyes were wide open and staring in fear.

If he had been Human, he probably would have expired from his injuries a long time ago. Alas, he was youkai, which made him hardier than mortals. What was more, even if he did die, he would just come back.

Alas.

Mokou's fingers began glowing, and she reached down with one hand for his face. The spider reflexively jerked his head back, but that didn't stop her from grabbing his gag. It burned at her touch, and fell apart with one yank, though it left thin lips burned.

"Pah!" he spat out a wad of mucus, saliva, blood, and…other stuff. "Stop. Please, I begs yah!"

"Shut up," Mokou said, stomping her foot onto his chest, making him cry out in pain.

"Now listen," she continued, applying more pressure as she talked, making him squirm and writhe. "I'm going to ask you some questions, and you are going to answer. For every bit of backtalk, every delayed answer, I hurt you some more. But if you tell me everything I want to know…" She eased up, just enough so he could talk.

"You'll let me go?" he said. "Like dis?"

"So what?" she said. "Die, and your body will just come back, good and new, won't it? Hell, tell you what: you be a good little bug and cooperate, and I'll immolate you in like less than a second. You won't feel a thing, and from there, your youkai energies can do their thing. Once you come back, you're free to go, no strings attached. How's that sound?"

He swallowed, a gooshy, phlegmy sound. "Prummise?"

"Prummise," Mokou grinned. "So now, my little bug. Let's talk."